FateProphecy Break
by Wrathkal
Summary: A young Harry Potter gets his hands on a certain summoning ritual, and carries it out on the spur of the moment! Archer-Harry team. Independent, smart Harry.
1. Prologue 1

Idea has been in my head for some time and I decided to get it out of the way by writing it.

Crossover of Harry Potter and Fate/Stay Night, neither of which I own.

* * *

**30th July 1987**

In the library of Little Whinging, there was an old man seated at a table, drawing the attention of the few inhabitants present in the place. With spiky grey hair and a beard, he looked every bit the distinguished gentleman, especially with his formal-looking clothing and cape, and the white gloves on his hand. He was clearly busy; looking at the library book, he would scribble across a piece of paper, as though writing down what mysterious new discovery he had made from the book.

Yet it seemed that his work was hardly serious, more of a flight of fancy than anything else. For eventually, he would get up and leave, slotting the papers he had been writing on into a random book and leaving it on a shelf in the library.

When the librarian approached him about becoming a member, he refused, replying, "I am simply passing through. I doubt I shall ever come back again."

As he left the place, the Dead Apostle Ancestor known as Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg was passed by a thin boy with black hair and spectacles in extremely baggy clothing. Despite the young lad being of no concern to one as old as he, and Zelretch would leave this world through the magic of the Kaleidoscope, with a small smirk on his face.

Six year old Harry Potter had come to the library to flee from his cousin Dudley and his gang, and their usual game of Harry Hunting. Ever since he found out that they didn't want to spend time in the library, it had become a haven of sorts to him, and on some occasions, a route of escape from the world that he found himself in through the means of the storybooks around the place.

As Harry walked down the aisles, he noticed a book with papers sticking out haphazardly, and thinking it was simply loose pages, he took it down to arrange it in order, having been ingrained to do so by his Aunt Petunia's obsession with orderliness. That book, was the same book that was left by the man he had passed by on his way in.

He soon realized that the papers did not match the book at all, and removed them from the tome. A brief jolt of curiosity that survived his relatives' upbringing made him look at them, and he tried to comprehend the information written down.

'**A Ritual to Summon a Heroic Spirit.**' was the title at the top of the front page, with a lengthy description of the steps involved.

Young Harry Potter often read about heroes, people who did great things, rescuing damsels in distress, beloved by everyone. He often imagined that a hero would come and rescue him from his cruel relatives, when he was locked inside his cupboard with nothing to do. Harry wondered if this was true; was magic real, and if he followed the steps involved, would a hero come to save him?

Caught up in his daydreams, Harry started to read through the steps, memorizing the circle and the chant as best as he could. His finger would trace the design over and over, and his mouth formed the words silently, pretending that they did work. Even if it wasn't real, at least his imagination would help him to feel better.

But all too soon, his time of escape came to an end, and Harry trudged back to the house where he stayed to carry out his chores once more.

"...!" Raised voices caught his attention, and Harry saw that his cousin and his gang of friends were bullying a young girl.

His mind thought about the situation. If he interfered, they would target him, and then Dudley would blame him to his aunt and uncle, and he would get locked inside his cupboard again. Better he stay out of sight entirely, and be uninvolved at all.

Except... the thought of what being a hero meant came up in his thoughts, and Harry acted before he knew what he was doing. Perhaps deep down, he hoped for the love and acceptance that the hero would attain after his chivalrous deed, or maybe he simply wanted to do what was right.

"Leave her alone!" Harry shouted, pushing his way in to stand in front of the girl.

As the first fist came his way, Harry wondered for the first time if heroes actually existed at all.

The outcome was just as he expected. He was beaten up and left aching outside, crawled back to the house only to be blamed, beaten by his uncle and thrown into his cupboard without any food. Harry even heard something crack in his chest and right arm during the beating, and he tasted a coppery flavor on his tongue. For many hours, he just lay there, stunned, until his relatives had all gone to bed.

_Blood... I'm bleeding... _Half crying, half laughing, all too soft to be overheard in the darkness of his cupboard, Harry pulled up his hand-me-down shirt from Dudley to prod at the pain in his chest, wincing as his finger makes contact. _A hero... I was beaten up... that girl ran off... I..._

Dully, he touched his mouth, picking up blood on the tip of his finger. He would draw the circle, and say the chant. If anything, it would make him feel better at least. His dreams always helped him escape from life at Privet Drive.

Biting his lip, Harry scanned around for a place to draw the design, and eventually settled on his chest. Sitting up hurt too much, and he couldn't draw comfortably on the walls lying down.

Using his blood, he traced the circle, replenishing the blood from his mouth whenever the feeling under his finger changed. Bit by bit he added to it, including his own additions to make up the parts he could not remember; inside the six-pointed star, his random tracing formed a seven-pointed one, the border of the circle gained random designs that were replications of things he liked. And to top it off, he wrote his name, a child's cry to be known as something other than just 'Boy'.

Resting his palms on the rough circle on his chest, Harry tried to recall the words to the ritual. He couldn't recall the whole thing, but he just tried it anyway.

"**I command thee...**" Harry coughed, his breathing slightly off, "**Thou shall come to... me..."**

He could almost imagine the circle starting to glow. "**Thy sword shall control... my fate... Abi-, abiding by the...**" The boy tried to remember what came next. _Something that starts with G... _"**Gate of... Truth's... law...**"

"**If thou...**" Another strange word that Harry couldn't remember. "**Follows this will... and reason... then answer me... this...**" Harry coughed again, "**Oath sworn here...**"

Part of Harry wondered if his eyes were bleeding; the inside of the cupboard seemed to be a dull red instead of its usual dark shadows.

"**I... will be the... embodiment... of good... in this world...**" _Was that _lightning_? But it's red..._

"**I... will... dispose of... the evil... in this world...**" Harry wondered if he was seeing and hearing things now; the red glow, the crackling noise... would his uncle hear and come down to punish him?

The next line failed to come into his mind at all, and he quickly cast around for what would fit this oath. _Something that rhymed with seven... that's it! _"**Seven heavens that... bear the... trinity... come forth...**" _In or out? Can't remember... _"**Into this circle of... constraint...**"

Everything seemed to be shaking now. Harry closed his eyes and spoke the last line, "**Heed me... and my fate... shall become... your sword!**"

Outside his cupboard, the clock hit midnight at the same time the incantation was finished. For a moment, the light and sound vanished, and Harry could hear his uncle shouting something; perhaps it was all just his imagination after all...

Then his world exploded into blinding white agony, and his screams woke up the whole of Privet Drive.

* * *

In a realm of empty white, where the only thing of note was a giant gate of stone, a BEING of pure white sat before the gate, looking at the design on it. The BEING suddenly stiffened, and turned around.

_THIS IS NEW. SOMEONE FROM ANOTHER WORLD PAYING THE TOLL?_

...

_WHAT ARE YOU OFFERING... THAT UGLY THING? CERTAINLY, I CAN ACCEPT THAT AS PART OF THE TOLL, BUT IT'S ONLY A PORTION OF A WHOLE. AND IT IS HARDLY ENOUGH TO PAY FOR WHAT YOU ASK._

...

_YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT IS, DO YOU? BUT NEVER MIND... YOUR-_

The BEING suddenly paused, and turns to look at the gate, which had creaked open a little.

_WELL, I'VE NEVER... THIS IS THE FIRST TIME THAT THE PAYMENT COMES FROM THE OTHER SIDE. _

It turns back to face its conversation partner, a too-wide grin spreads over the place where a mouth would be on a human.

_IN EXCHANGE FOR THAT THING AND YOUR APPENDIX... YOUR WISH... SHALL BE GRANTED._

The gate bursts open, and a mass of black engulfs the place.

* * *

The heroic spirit Emiya had left his past self behind, returning back to the Throne of Heroes to await his next summoning to perform his duty as a Counter Guardian. However, en route, something else happened, and he was shunted off towards another destination entirely.

_I don't know what's going on... but I certainly blame Zelretch for this! _Despite his unawareness of the circumstances involved, Emiya managed to lay the blame at the culprit through past experience.

Emiya found himself... in the world cast by his Reality Marble; a smoky desert plain littered with an infinite number of swords, while giant gears shifted in the sky above. Except there was a certain difference...

"Hello, are you a hero? My name is Harry Potter." A young boy with vivid green eyes greeted him nervously on the same plain.

_Curse the Root. _Emiya wondered just what had he gotten himself into.

* * *

Not really a good way to end it, but meh.

Okay, to sum things up, this is mainly Harry Potter, except he has somehow (read: will of the writer) performed a summoning ritual cum alchemy exchange due to Zelretch's meddling? Interference? Well, whatever it is, we have Archer summoned into the body of young Harry Potter, with the toll paid to the Gate (from Fullmetal Alchemist) due to the destruction of the Holy Grail at the end of the UBW route. Realistically, Harry shouldn't be able to memorize the full chant (I modified mine from the one in the UBW movie) or draw a proper summoning circle, so I simply twisted things such that a one in a billion occurence actually occurs. It's pushing the bounds of reasonability quite a bit, but heck, I just want to get this out of my head.

Anyway, my intention is that Harry Potter's magic takes the most precedence here, but he gets to perform Archer's Nasuverse magic due to the existence of Archer inside him, thus Harry's 'power that the dark lord knows not' includes Tracing and Reinforcement, but not the Reality Marble as Harry's soul is not the same as Archer's, and thus he cannot project Archer's Reality Marble. Not unless they both are in tune with the same ideals.

I will add another disclaimer that states that I am not very experienced with Nasuverse rules, and am just winging it according to the fanfics I've read.

Not sure whether I'll continue this, but let's just see how.


	2. Prologue 2

**Thanks to all those who checked out this story! Here's a second part out.**

* * *

A shrill scream woke up the people in the house, along with everyone else on the street. Everyone was wondering who was making the racket, and they soon narrowed it to Number 4. At first, some of the neighbors thought it was just the couple's spoilt brat of a son having a nightmare, but a few realized it didn't sound that way, which meant it was the troublemaker of a nephew who was the one who was raising the din. It cemented their impression of the boy, and some of them started putting on nightgowns, intent on going over to tell the residents of Number 4 just what they thought of their inability to control a child.

Then a young girl told her father that the boy in question had stood up to a gang of bullies for her, only to get beaten up for his trouble. The newfound knowledge led the man to come to the conclusion that something VERY bad was going on in that house, and he immediately phoned the police. The flustered police sergeant on duty was mortified to hear what he was being told, and several cars turned up soon enough, with a team of policemen kicking down the door of the house as the bemused and surprised residents of the neighborhood watched on.

What they found was something that horrified them; the beefy husband had his hand clamped around the mouth of a young boy who seemed too thin to be normally healthy, practically strangling him. But what was more shocking was the state of the boy; blood covered the front of his clothes, and one of his arms was clearly broken. Needless to say, Vernon Dursley soon found himself beaten up and in handcuffs, and Harry Potter was packed off to a hospital with all due haste.

Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light, was having some troubles of his own. Just as he was falling off into slumber, one of the silver instruments he used to monitor Harry burst into hell-raising screeches, which set off the portraits in his office and his phoenix Fawkes. In his rudely awakened state, he fumbled around trying to make sense of which one it was. It didn't help that Arabella Figg's head appeared in his fireplace, screaming that young Harry was being tortured, and adding to the overall noise. By the time he managed to sort the information out, it was too late to stop the news from spreading through the Muggle news channels. The fact that a family had been torturing a young child of seven whose records were nonexistent was something that made front page news, and Harry certainly was very attention-grabbing with his screams. Malnutrition, beatings, being forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs; the public ate it up.

Thus, when Albus Dumbledore finally turned up at Privet Drive, it was only to find that he could do nothing without involving the Ministry of Magic. Thankfully, none of the wizards cared enough about the Muggle world to pay their news any attention, or they would have found out that their so-called savior had lived a life of horrible abuse. The few Muggleborns who _were_ aware wondered about the name, but with no pictures, they weren't sure. So the only magical people who knew were members of the Order of the Phoenix whom Dumbledore told. In particular, a certain cat Animagus who was currently tearing into the person who had left Harry there in the first place.

"I TOLD YOU, ALBUS! I TOLD YOU THEY WERE THE WORST SORT OF MUGGLES!" Minerva McGonagall screamed at her boss. "AND YOU STILL LEFT HIM WITH... WITH THEM!"

Dumbledore looked very old and shrunken in his seat. "And I shall never forgive myself for that all my life. But we must stay focused, Minerva. The longer young Harry stays at the hospital, the more he will be at risk-"

"Surely you don't mean to put him back _there_!" McGonagall hissed furiously.

"I agree, Headmaster," The third member of their group, one Severus Snape, spoke silkily, not showing the turmoil he was feeling. _Lily's son... going through... through that! _"Returning him to these... Dursleys, would be a very bad decision. And we can no longer remove him from the hospital with all the attention he has drawn."

"Then what can we do?" Albus asked feebly.

It was McGonagall who provided the answer. "We'll just have to do without those blood protections."

"Minerva, you can't-"

"SHUT UP! You listen to me, Albus Dumbledore! You have put that lad through hell because of this protection of yours! No child should have to go through such things!" Minerva took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. "As I said, forget about the blood protection. Let him be adopted by a good family at least, a Muggle one so he can grow up outside of the Wizarding world like you wanted. We can put up wards and have Order members watch over him."

"That is a good idea, Headmaster." Snape added his voice to her cause.

And thus, Harry's life was decided.

* * *

Harry Potter was in awe of the man before him. Tall with white hair, dressed in red and black, he cut an imposing figure in front of the small boy even without the aura he exuded. The boy pinched himself, wondering if he was dreaming, but when his act yielded pain, Harry finally believed that the ritual worked... even if he was the one summoned into the world of the hero and not the other way round.

"So you are a hero?" Harry asked eagerly, seated cross-legged across from the man in red.

"Yes, I suppose I am." The man with white hair quirked his mouth, thinking of his renewed faith in his ideals.

"What's it like?" The boy asked eagerly.

"It's not an easy path..." The man decided he would just refer to himself as Archer, like before.

Harry was shocked to hear about the trials that Archer went through to save others; he never imagined that a hero could be so reviled by those he worked to save. More than once he wondered if heroes were real only in fairy tales and stories, and nothing but cruel lies in reality.

Then Archer told him something that he would remember all his life.

"One cannot save everyone, that's what I learned as a hero. But being a hero means trying anyway."

Harry was filled with admiration for the man. He wanted to be strong like the man before him, and besides, swords were so cool. Curious, Harry reached out to his side and touched one of them.

The moment his hand made contact with it, a whole slew of images flashed through his head, leaving him with an intense headache that made him whimper. The bloody history of the thin blade was etched firmly in his memories, including how to wield it in the way its past owner did. The shock of it knocked him out of the world, and back into wakefulness, but it left him with an awareness of something new.

Archer's ability of Tracing. (1)

* * *

When Harry awoke, it was to a rather unpleasant experience. Not only was his throat raw from all the unconscious screaming, but his entire body felt like it had been pierced with blades and was only just beginning to heal. Then there was the matter of the extra passenger behind his eyes.

_It appears we are sharing a body. Your body. _Archer's voice spoke in his mind.

"What..." Harry rasped, then coughed as speaking took its toll.

Before he could do anything else, a nurse noticed he was awake, and alerted the doctors. Harry followed Archer's advice to keep silent, and listened as the spirit inside him explained what it knew about the medical checkups he was undergoing with the vast wealth of experiences it had. The boy absorbed every piece of information almost hungrily, fascinated by what he was learning.

In the meantime, Archer was exploring the limits of his new... vessel, he decided to term it. He couldn't exert direct control over Harry's body, but when their wills were synchronized, he could alter the movement so as to achieve maximum effectiveness. But what he was more concerned about were the magic circuits in Harry's body. From his past life before he became a Counter Guardian, the one known as Emiya Shirou had twenty-seven magic circuits.

Those circuits were somehow in this boy's body, in the exact composition if not size, as though they were replicated into Harry's body. And all of them at the efficiency he had built them to be after their awakening during the Grail War. With a bit of training, Harry would be able to utilize the same magecraft Archer did.

_What's this? _Archer was surprised to find what seemed to be a prana source in Harry's body.

On closer scrutiny, he found certain similarities and differences. This source appeared to be continuously active, giving Harry's body a weak degree of Reinforcement, but it appeared to function on a different wavelength from the prana Archer was familiar with.

_Something's clearly different here... I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore. _Archer quipped to himself. _Curse you, Kaleidoscope._

As for young Harry Potter, he was just relieved to find out that he would not have to go back to the Dursleys ever again, and finally fell asleep after people were done poking and prodding at him.

* * *

(1) For those who are unaware of Tracing, it's like the materialization of an object according to the caster's imagination, except that Tracing does so by replicating the object's full shape, substance and _history_, which allows the copying of any special abilities and skill involved in use. NOTE: Harry does not immediately get to use Tracing, for you Type-fans out there.

Honestly, I understand the importance of crafting out a proper back history to a story. But it's quite tedious when the writer (me in this case) wants to jump to the fun part, which starts when Harry prepares to go to Hogwarts.

Speaking of back history, I find Nasuverse is very big on mechanics in magic. The total opposite of Harry Potter, where it seems like you can do nearly anything just by waving a wand. And it's not just limited to magic... see how many fanfictions there are with Ron the Death Eater, Evil Dumbledore, etc... well, I'm still undecided on what path to follow through with this, apart from Harry being resistant to manipulations due to Archer hitching a ride inside him.

Apart from that... well, I think I'll just go with a time-skip and build the back history from that point. Because that's where the fun is.


	3. First Spell

**First, allow me to say thanks to all those who put their hopes on this story by placing it on their Story Alert list. I hope I'll be able to live up to your expectations!**

* * *

Harry's eyes opened before his alarm even managed to ring, and cut it off before the first note could be completed. He rolled out of bed and turned on the lights in his room, before checking his appearance in the mirror.

_Good morning, Harry._

_Morning, Archer. _Harry replied.

Ever since Archer took up residence in his body four years ago, apart from his emerald eyes, the rest of Harry's body had undergone a great deal of change. His scar no longer stood out as prominently, having faded to nothing more than a thin line on his forehead, and he developed an eyesight that was extremely adept at picking out details from afar. And with his improved living conditions, he started developing a good deal of muscle. But the changes that stood out the most were his hair and skin, both of which reflected Archer's; his hair was a snowy white with a few flecks of black around the edge, except for the fringe he used to hide the scar, and his skin was a light tan that was more at home on someone living closer to the Equator. His explanation to those who questioned him about it was a casual mentioning of the trauma he went through, and nobody dared to ask any further. He was rather well-known after the debacle, after all.

But that wasn't the end of Archer's influence. Both he and Archer were early risers, and that habit continued to this day. Archer's encouragement also drove him to polish his cooking skills, and he developed an interest in fixing things and helping people just like Archer's past life did, enough to get a reputation as something of a Mr Fixit in his school. His foster parents protested at first, but Harry stuck determinedly to his new hobbies, and they eventually acquiesced. Four years of having Archer in his head had left him with more than a few of his idol's character traits.

After washing his face and dressing, Harry headed downstairs to work on cooking breakfast. As always, he took the opportunity offered by the solitude to practice a small bit of the magecraft he had learned under Archer's tutelage.

Focusing on the stove, he whispered, "Structural Analysis," triggering the magic circuits in his body.

His mental trigger was the nightmare he still had on occasion: a woman's scream followed by a flash of green light. A nightmare that he recently found out to be a memory of the night his birth parents were murdered.

Satisfied that there was nothing different about the object, he began the task of making the first meal of the day.

_Still thinking about it? _Archer's voice sounded dry.

Four years of sharing one's mind and the occasional memory with someone else also leaves one with a very clear idea of what the other guy is thinking.

_Yeah. _Harry admitted, _I'm a wizard and I'm famous for surviving the evil wizard who killed my parents. How can I NOT think about it? I'm also annoyed that the Dursleys had the _NERVE _to tell me they died in a car crash!_

_You could try working out where magecraft and magic are different. _Archer suggested.

_You mean like what's the difference between wards and bounded fields? Or how they don't rely on magic circuits, but a magic core instead? Or the best part, no one seems interested in reaching Akasha, but seeing what they can do with magic like a child with a toy? _Harry retorted waspishly. _But then there's just one thing... I don't know any magic yet._

After Harry was adopted by a couple with no children, he found out that what he went through with the Dursleys was something _wrong, _and reacted like any child would: with anger. His foster parents and Archer helped him to temper that anger, but Harry still showed the occasional hot flash once in a while.

Archer's presence in his mind also helped Harry to learn to notice certain things; the bounded field around his foster home, the odd people who watched him from a distance, and the crazy people who came up to shake his hand or bow to him, all of them were clear signs of magic, according to Archer. Especially when the people would vanish when he tried to get a second look. Archer and Harry, after some discussion, decided to adopt a wait-and-see strategy while training in magecraft and physical fighting.

Harry discovered that while the magic circuits in his body used to be Archer's, they worked for him perfectly, which Archer described as something that shouldn't be possible. Still, with his desire to become a hero like Archer, Harry worked to learn the same skills, practicing Structural Analysis, Reinforcement, Alteration, and the variation of Projection that Archer taught him. However, while he had a moderate degree of success with the former two, the latter was something he could only pull off through synchronized action with Archer, leading the hero to propose the theory that while Harry could use magecraft thanks to the magic circuits in his body, Archer himself had to function as a Mystic Code (1) of sorts when it came to Tracing.

Harry didn't know whether Archer was right or not, he was just disappointed that he couldn't make swords like Archer did when they were training in the dream world where he first met Archer. For his part, the spirit was impressed with the determination that Harry displayed in his magecraft studies, never flinching or shying from the pain that came with it. It aided the boy greatly when he also began practicing archery at the local community center, and needed to focus on the target.

Then the letter came, delivered by a stern-looking woman in robes, informing him of his acceptance to a school of MAGIC, one that was different from the magecraft Archer was familiar with. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions... both of them were fascinated by this new system of magic.

With Archer coaching him, Harry wormed out information from Professor Minerva McGonagall; his history (he was particularly incensed to find out that the headmaster of the school, the person who left him at the Dursleys, and his magical guardian were one and the same), what happened to his biological parents, and why he was being watched by people who weren't very good at hiding (Harry was amused to see the woman blanch when he informed her about the people who came up to him). In the end, he told her that he would decide by tomorrow.

Which was today. Harry checked the clock; the woman said she would be here at nine, and it was barely seven.

_Enough for some morning training. _He decided.

He ate lightly, and left the remainder of the breakfast out for his foster parents under a cover before picking up his eskrima (2) sticks and heading out to the back garden where he could train without being watched.

Even with Archer's influence and wholesome meals, Harry's slender body was simply not suited for a style utilizing heavier blades like the Kanshou and Bakuya used by Archer. In accordance with the idea of 'the best defense is a good offense', Harry settled for a sword style that would utilize his speed and agility the most, especially after Archer promised him that he had the appropriate blades for Harry to use no matter what style he chose.

Placing his sticks aside, he started stretching to loosen up his body. Once he was warmed up, Harry picked up the sticks and Reinforced them as part of his magecraft training, then settled them into his hands and adopting his combat stance.

His strikes began slowly, weaving around into the angles of attack, targeting critical areas on the bodies of his imagined foes, and blocking against their perceived attacks. After several minutes of this shadow training, Harry triggered the next stage with the sound of a woman's scream and a green flash in his mind, this time pumping prana through his body to Reinforce it. His fluid movements began to speed up, going faster and faster, until his body was practically blurring in its motion, the sticks whistling as they whipped through the air too fast for the human eye to perceive.

_Okay, that's enough. _Archer warned him. _Your circuits are reaching their limit._

_Thanks, Archer. _Harry wiped the sweat off his brow and headed in to wash up, cutting the flow of prana as he did.

"Good morning, Harry." His foster parents greeted him as he came back down in outing clothes after showering.

"Good morning, Uncle John, Aunt Diana." He returned the greeting. Harry found it hard to think of anyone as a parent figure apart from Archer, and even Archer was more of an equal than anything else.

"So, you're going to go to magic school?" The man asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yes." Harry admitted, "I'm curious about the world my birth parents came from."

"Then we won't stop you. Just make sure to do well in your studies. We won't be able to accompany you today, though."

"Thank you, and I'll be fine on my own. Speaking of which, I think it might be a good idea to keep up my _normal_ studies." Harry kept in mind Archer's advice about not putting all his eggs in one basket.

"Can you handle it?"

"I'm not sure." Harry admitted honestly. "But I want to try at least."

The couple shared a look, before the woman nodded. "Alright. We'll look into getting you the necessary materials."

"Thank you." Harry checked the clock. "It's nearly time-"

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

_The last time, she knocked on the door. _Archer observed.

Harry just went over to open the door. Instead of the woman from yesterday, he saw a girl with bushy hair and rather large front teeth standing on the porch. He blinked at her for a few moments, then realized that the person he was expecting was standing behind the girl.

The girl started chattering without pausing to take a breath. "Oh, hello. Are you going to Hogwarts too? My name's Hermione Granger, I was so excited to find out that I was a witch, you know. I- why are you staring at me like that?" She stopped, finally noticing the look Harry was giving her.

"I believe it's because you surprised him, Miss Granger." Professor Minerva McGonagall said dryly.

The girl instantly blushed and ducked her head. "I'm sorry."

"Actually, it was because you seemed so lively." Harry countered smoothly. "Anyway, I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

Hermione took his hand and shook it with a slight tremble that he didn't miss. "Nice to meet you too."

Harry looked up at the woman. "Good morning to you, Professor."

"The same to you, Mr Potter. As she introduced herself, this is Hermione Granger, one of the Muggleborn students that will be attending with you if you choose to attend Hogwarts."

"You mean you haven't decided whether you want to go or not?" Hermione interrupted, sounding horrified that he didn't choose to go right off the bat.

"Miss Granger! That was rude." Professor McGonagall scolded.

"I'm so sorry!" The girl apologized immediately.

Harry raised a hand to stop her. "No, it's fine. And yes, I've decided to go to Hogwarts. Are we going to go to collect our supplies now?"

Professor McGonagall blinked, as though suddenly realizing that Harry was already dressed to go, and nodded. Harry went back inside to inform his foster parents, and soon came back out ready to go with a cap covering his hair.

They piled into a car driven by Hermione's parents, both dentists, and were taken to Charing Cross Road, where Professor McGonagall led them into a rundown pub named the Leaky Cauldron, something that Harry found rather odd,. During the car ride, the professor answered any questions they posed, most of which came from Hermione. Harry found out that his parents had left him some money to purchase his school supplies with.

As the teacher demonstrated how to open the gateway to Diagon Alley, Harry was in a mental discussion with Archer.

_What do you make of the girl, Archer?_

_She clearly has a great deal of respect for adults, judging from the way she hangs onto the lady's words, almost to the point of living for their approval... I'm guessing that she doesn't have many friends her age, if any. _

Harry glanced over at the girl in question with a bit of pity in his eyes. He remembered how it was like when he went to school for the first time, and Dudley bullied all the other kids away from befriending him.

But whatever he was going to say in reply was soon forgotten as the entranceway opened up to reveal Diagon Alley, which was a fascinating new world just overflowing with so many new things awaiting to be discovered.

_This is amazing, Archer! _Harry's thoughts were filled with awe as he followed the rest down the street. _I can't believe that something like this is right in the middle of London._

Archer kept silent, but the owner of his host body could feel him struggling not to laugh.

_What's so funny? _Harry demanded.

_Look over to your left, Harry. _Archer said casually, drawing the boy's attention to a shop named Quality Quidditch Supplies. _See those boys gushing over that broomstick? _Archer snorted. _Broomstick. Well, it's like non-magical boys doing the same over a brand new bike. _

Harry didn't get it at first, so Archer elaborated.

_This whole magical alley thing, entering it is just like entering a foreign country. They have their own culture, which is different from the one you are familiar with. Once you get past the thrill, it's actually no different from the normal world._

Harry stopped and considered what just heard, looking around at the shops in a new light. The woman at the apothecary complaining about the prices of one of the ingredients could have been doing the same regarding a vegetable at a grocer's. The menagerie was nothing more than a pet shop with a slightly different selection. The clothing store, the bookstore... Harry realized that Archer was right.

"Harry! What's wrong? Why did you stop? I know it's amazing, but we've got to go to the bank!"

Harry realized that Hermione was calling him, and looked up to see her standing in front of him while the adults waited impatiently up ahead.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about something really important. Let's go." _You're right, Archer. There's even a bank._

_Staffed by non-humans, so maybe it's slightly different. _Archer commented as they walked through the bronze front doors, bowed through by two goblin guards. _Be on your best behavior, you never know what might happen. Oh, and there's a compulsion on the silver doors coming up._

Harry slowed down, letting himself fall to the back of the group and out of their attention. He turned to the guards and returned their bows at a slightly higher angle, before hurrying after the adults. The goblins stared after him, taking note of the strange child who had just shown them a manner of respect most wizards wouldn't even imagine doing.

"Mr and Mrs. Granger, you need to get into that line over there. The teller will assist you in converting your money to ours." Professor McGonagall gestured at a counter with no queue.

Harry and Archer both noticed that the goblin at that counter instantly locked onto their party when they first came in, having trained themselves to recognize possible threats. Judging from the way some of the guards eyed him out of the adults in their party, Harry realized that he wasn't subtle enough.

"As for Mr Potter, please follow me." The teacher looked back at the couple and their daughter. "We will take some time, so please wait for us near the entrance."

They waited in a different queue, with Harry observing his surroundings while Archer remained silent. Eventually it was their turn, and the goblin called them forward.

"Mr Potter would like to access his trust vault. Vault 687."

"Key?" The goblin demanded brusquely.

Professor McGonagall drew a small golden key from inside her robes and handed it to the goblin, who inspected it closely over the glasses it wore.

"That seems in order. Griphook!" Another goblin instantly hurried up. "Take Mr Potter and his companion down to vault six hundred and eighty seven."

Harry bit his lip to stop himself from asking right then, following the small goblin instead. He waited until they entered a corridor away from the hall before he finally spoke.

"Professor, why do you have my vault key?" From the corner of his eye, he noticed the goblin twitch slightly.

"Headmaster Dumbledore gave it to me for the purpose of today's trip." Before Harry could ask any further, she continued, "After we leave Gringotts, it will be yours to keep. I'm sure you are aware how important it is."

"Yes, Professor." _Would she have given it over to me if I had refused to attend Hogwarts? I don't like this... why didn't I hear of this vault until now?_

_Another puzzle. _Archer commented. _We still don't have any answers, so don't go acting just yet._

_I know. _Harry replied as their party got onto a cart that came when the goblin Griphook whistled. _It's just- WHOOOOAAAA! _Whatever thought Harry had was thrown out of his mind as the cart shot off sharply.

When the goblin opened his vault, Harry was struck speechless by the sight of all the gold, silver, and bronze coins within. He barely registered Professor McGonagall telling him about the exchange rates between the coins, but finally came to with Archer's soft reminder in his head.

Harry approached one of the piles of golden coins and picked up a single coin. "Structural Analysis."

It was pure gold, with magic holding the normally weak metal together in a solid structure. If Harry had to define it in magecraft terms, he would describe the magic to be a combination of the earth and metal affinities.

"Hurry up, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall's crisp voice shook him out of his thoughts.

Harry turned around to give her a nod, before grabbing a bag and filling it with handfuls of coins of each type. He found the bag to remain constant in weight no matter how much he filled it, and analyzed it as well.

_Careful. We don't know for sure if they can detect magecraft. _Archer warned. _Wizards are one thing, these goblins are another._

Chastened, Harry tied the mouth of the bag shut and left the vault. He noted that after the goblin closed the door, it handed the key directly to him with a subtle sneer at the woman.

"Thank you." _Surprise again. Do these goblins really get so little thanks for their service?_ Harry wondered.

_Why don't you tell me your conclusions after we get back to the entrance hall? _proposed Archer.

By the time he left Gringotts, Harry was sure of one thing. _I don't think I like this wizarding society much, if most wizards act so snootily. _

Archer chuckles filled his mind. _Perhaps you might want to research the reason in the history books._

"I suggest getting a trunk first. There is a great deal to buy, and it is best to have a trunk to store the items in." Professor McGonagall explained as she led the way to a shop selling all manners of trunks in various materials and enchantments.

Harry frowned at the standard trunk, and chose a three-compartment one instead despite the teacher's attempts to dissuade him. He noticed that the girl looked at him disapprovingly, which cemented his opinion of her as a teacher's pet even as he ignored her.

Next they were fitted for uniforms at Madam Malkin's; three sets of plain black robes, one pointed hat (Archer snorted over that), one black winter cloak, and a pair of gloves made out of dragon hide. Harry scanned the last item with his magecraft and was impressed at the protection it offered.

They then moved on to the general stores, where they got the necessary school equipment and ingredients for Potions class and a telescope for Astronomy. Harry found the smell around the apothecary overpowering, but both he and Archer could smell the power in some of the ingredients. Potions felt like it could be an interesting class, which Harry mentioned as a passing comment.

Professor McGonagall overheard and looked at him. "Your mother was quite the potions brewer herself, in fact. She often competed for the top spot with our current Potions teacher Severus Snape. They were friends while they were at school."

"I see." Harry's voice carried no emotion. "I suppose I could ask him about her when I see him."

The teacher stared at him, but eventually nodded silently and moved on.

_I advise you to ditch the telescope. The non-magical world makes much better ones, even those that aren't electricity-powered. _Archer whispered.

_Got it. _Harry didn't like the brass telescope that much either. _Why is Astronomy even a core class?_

_Find out yourself, Harry. That's what you're going to school for, aren't you? _The voice in his head sounded slightly mocking.

Harry sneered in his mind at that infuriating personality trait of Archer's, while his face remained blank of expression. Archer often tested his ability to control his temper, usually by goading Harry with subtle jabs in a game where the rule was that Harry lost if he reacted with anger, and won if he managed to ignore the jabs entirely.

"Do you wish to get your wands first, or books?"

"Oh, wands first, certainly." Mr Granger said casually. "If we go into the bookstore, we'll never get out before dinner."

"Dad~!" Hermione protested, but it was evident she was itching to go to the bookstore.

Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched into a small smile. "I see you're a Ravenclaw at heart, Miss Granger. Alright, we shall get these two their wands first. Follow me." She swept off, with Harry bringing up the rear as usual.

_Ravenclaw... that's one of the houses, for the smart ones. Why do I have a feeling I might not like this house classification? _He complained to Archer, who remained silent. _Another thing to read up on, then._

This time, he felt Archer's amusement clearly. Harry knew that he could not always rely on Archer, which was why the spirit occasionally challenged him to think for himself by pointing out problems for him to figure out.

The moment Harry entered Ollivander's, his nose itched fiercely from the smell of the magic present, and he sneezed several times. Blinking away tears, he suddenly sensed a presence, and reacted instinctively, diving into a roll and coming up facing whatever had triggered his attention from a safe distance away.

The old man blinked at him. "It's been a long time since a young wizard noticed me before I revealed myself. Interesting reaction."

"Don't sneak up on me." Harry warned him, still not lowering his fists.

"I shall keep that in mind, Mr..." The man squinted at him. "Ah, Mr Potter, I thought I'd be seeing you."

The boy frowned. "How?"

"You have your mother's eyes." The man approached slightly. "I remember her in here buying her first wand, almost like it was just yesterday. Willow, ten and a quarter inches long, swishy and nice for Charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand, eleven inches, pliable, a little more power and excellent for transfiguration."

Harry glared at the old man, stopping him from approaching any closer than a meter.

Mr Ollivander's eyes flicked up to the black fringe on his forehead. "And that's where... I'm sorry to say, Mr Potter, that I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches, yew, powerful wand. If I only knew what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Ah, my apologies. It's nice to see you again, Minerva. I suppose this young lady is here to purchase a wand of her own?" Mr Ollivander pulled out a measuring tape and set it to work over the girl as he started pulling boxes down from the shelves.

_So he sold Voldemort_, Harry pronounced his parents' murderer's name with a derisive snort, _his wand? That means... he knows who Voldemort really is. _Neither Harry nor Archer were under any illusion that Voldemort's name was truly as such.

While Hermione tried out wand after wand with a variety of results, Harry took the chance to study the shop. The constant itch in his nose testified to the amount of raw magic filling the place, right down to the dust covering some of the boxes on the shelves, which stacked up as high as the ceiling. Harry glanced over his shoulder at the adults, then focused his attention on one of the boxes and analyzed it. The box was made of stiff cardboard, and the inside lined with velvet, on which a wand rested. Nine inches, maple, a feather from some creature that was a combination of eagle and horse.

"Oho!" Harry spun around to see Mr Ollivander nodded approvingly at a Hermione whose expression glowed as red sparks drifted down to the floor. "Very good, very good! Ten and three quarter inches, vine wood with a dragon heartstring core. That wand will serve you well, Miss Granger. That will be seven Galleons, please. Mr Potter."

Harry twitched slightly as the man turned to face him abruptly. "Yes?"

"Which is your wand hand?"

"I'm right handed, but I trained myself to be ambidextrous." Harry didn't like the way the adults looked at him with surprise when he revealed that fact.

"Hold out your arm, if you please."

Harry waited as the tape measure measured all sorts of places over him, wondering if it actually mattered since he recalled Mr Ollivander saying something about the wand choosing the wizard minutes ago.

_Probably not. _

He grimaced on hearing Archer's comment, and the expression stayed on his face as he went through the same process as Hermione, attempting to wave wands to find which one matched him, and either getting them snatched from his hand or causing rather explosive results. And through it all, Mr Ollivander seemed to be enjoying himself, as though he lived for tricky customers who were hard to match. Then he proposed an unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, only to slump as the wand failed to respond like those before it.

_He was expecting something with that one. _Archer noted. _Holly is a symbol of life, opposite to yew, which symbolizes death._

"How about another unusual combination? Hawthorn, twelve inches, rather springy, containing a tail feather from a phoenix."

The moment Harry touched the wand, he felt a strange sensation rushing through his body.

_An artificial magic circuit. Perhaps that's why wands choose the wizard, or rather they choose each other. _

_Which is it? _Harry asked curiously as he twirled the wand in his fingers, creating sparks of black and white.

_I don't know. I wasn't really that good of a magus. Third-rate at best. _Archer's self-deprecating tone almost made Harry laugh.

"Bravo, Mr Potter! Very good! But curious... very curious..." Mr Ollivander continued to mutter even as he repacked the wand into its box.

Harry figured he was being baited, but bit anyway. "What's curious about it?"

Mr Ollivander's misty eyes locked onto Harry's green ones. "The feather in this wand is the only one of its kind. It was dropped by a phoenix that appeared on a battlefield, and turned the tide of battle with its song. That will be seven Galleons, Mr Potter."

Harry could sense Archer's turmoil of emotions at this knowledge. "I see." He replied evenly as he paid up.

"Mr Potter, a warning. Hawthorn wands have a peculiarity. Their spells, when badly handled, can backfire." The man looked searchingly at Harry's expression even as he handed the box over.

"Thank you for the warning, sir." Harry didn't feel a need to mention that he faced much danger already with his practice of magecraft.

"Let us be off, Mr Potter. You still have books to buy." Professor McGonagall said imperiously.

The curious look Hermione was giving him turned to eager anticipation on hearing those words, and she almost pulled her parents off their feet heading for Flourish and Blott's, diving among the stacks the moment she crossed the threshold. Harry followed at a more sedate pace, waiting for Archer to sort out his emotions while he glanced through the various books. At the counter, Professor McGonagall asked the shop person for two sets of the first year books.

_First I'll need some history books to figure out what's different between mine and Archer's world. Then perhaps some reference texts for Potions. And next... _Harry came to a stop when he noticed a stand proudly proclaiming his name. _What, the, HECK?_

He walked over and started looking through the books on the stand, not believing his eyes. The collection of books before him were meant for children, but the content was ridiculous; they told fictional stories of how he, Harry Potter, took on all sorts of monsters and went on various adventures, even as a young child.

Archer, sensing his host's confusion and anger, reacted quickly. _Harry, calm down! Don't lose control of yourself here!_

_Archer, are you seeing this? _Harry's mind burned with anger as he glared at the offending book in his hand. _They think I'm some kind of savior, saving people and defeating evil, when in reality, I LOST MY PARENTS AND GOT STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS!_

_Calm down. _Archer repeated. _That professor already told you how everyone feared that dark lord enough to dread the sound of his name. Then a child came along and got rid of him _(Harry could tell that Archer didn't believe that either) , _becoming a symbol of hope for them._

_There's something you aren't saying. _Harry accused.

_I'm fairly sure you should have been getting some money for this due to copyright laws. _Archer nudged Harry's attention away from the storybooks. _Go get the books you wanted._

Harry dropped the book back down onto the pile and headed back among the stacks. _Fine, but we'll talk about this later._

_Definitely, _promised Archer.

Harry eventually returned to the cashier with _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_, _Hogwarts: A History, Things You Need To Remember When Mixing Ingredients_, _Law and Literature_, _Goblins and Their Place in Wizarding Society, _and_ Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_, having picked the last one after remembering what Professor McGonagall mentioned about there being purebloods, halfbloods and muggleborns.

Trouble started when Hermione returned at a dash to confront him about the stand she just saw. "I didn't know you were famous. Why didn't you say so? Did you really defeat a dragon? What happened to all those girls you rescued? Is your hair really white because you kissed the Snow Queen?" She brandished the book that her last question was based on.

Harry's expression darkened with each question, and the last one made him snap. "All those..." He hissed, snatching the book from her hand. "Are _lies_."

The girl gaped at him, then bristled in anger. "Why would they print that then? And there's no need to be so rude!"

_Harry..._ Archer warned, but Harry was past caring.

"I don't know, but you can be sure that I'm going to find out." Harry growled. "As for your earlier _question_, let me tell you a story. A _true_ story."

The three adults, about to stop the children, paused at the tone of the boy's voice. The anger in it was evident, but there was a matter-of-fact acceptance that didn't seem to match at all.

"About four years ago, the police answered a call about screaming coming from a house. Do you know what they found when they broke in? A man choking a thin boy covered in blood. The boy also had broken bones in his arm and ribs." Harry felt a bit of vicious satisfaction at seeing the shock in Hermione's eyes. "But that's not all, they found that the man had starved the boy, made him do all the chores, and forced him to sleep in _a cupboard under the stairs_."

Hermione stared at him, unable to believe what he was telling her. Harry's eyes flicked over her shoulder to look at Professor McGonagall, who had turned white, but her expression was sad rather than horrified, unlike Hermione's parents', who seemed to recognize what he was talking about.

"Wouldn't you say it was traumatizing? Maybe traumatizing enough to cause this?" Harry pulled off the cap he was wearing, showing the white hair on his head.

It was actually a lie, but it seemed true in the face of Harry's anger, and Hermione flinched back, tears already spilling from her wide eyes.

"The world isn't as nice as you think, Miss Granger. Don't believe everything you read." Harry donned his cap again, and turned to put his purchased books back into his trunk.

Even after Professor McGonagall left them, the mood for the rest of the trip back was somber, with the Granger family throwing glances at a silent Harry Potter, particularly one red-eyed Hermione Granger. But Harry hardly noticed, he was busy talking to Archer.

_That wasn't nice, Harry. _Archer said disapprovingly.

_I know, I'm sorry I lost my temper. _Harry apologized. _But she was getting on my nerves._

_Don't apologize to me, apologize to _her_. _The two of them glanced at the girl in question, who flinched and looked down instead of meeting their eyes. _Still, it might do her some good at least._

_Maybe. But I'm more interested in figuring out just why am I famous. There's just something about this whole Boy-Who-Lived thing that stinks._

_Agreed. _

The car came to a stop outside the place Harry was staying at, and he got off with his trunk. Just as he was about to open the door, someone called out to him from behind.

"Harry..." The young girl's voice sounded so lost that Harry instinctively turned around to see who it belonged to.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

Despite his tone having none of its earlier annoyance, Hermione shrunk in on herself as though he had shouted at her. "I... I would like to say... that I'm sorry."

Harry stared at her for a moment, before coming to a decision. He put down his trunk and walked towards her. "I should apologize too. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"But I was the one who started it by-" Hermione paused when she noticed Harry shaking his head. "What?"

"Just forget about it. We both apologized. The end. It's over." Harry could see that she wanted to protest, so he changed the subject. "Let's just start over. Hi, I'm Harry Potter." He held out his right hand. "I'd like to be friends."

She stared at it for a moment, before taking it shyly. "Hermione Granger. It would be my pleasure."

Harry noted that this time, she didn't tremble at all.

After a lively dinner with his foster parents where he talked and answered questions about his shopping trip, Harry was found seated on the floor in his room with the books he bought scattered around him, along with papers covered in scribbles from his practice with a quill.

_I can't believe they still use quills! _Harry groaned as he worked a kink out of his wrist. _Everyone in the non-magical world uses pens!_

_I wonder..._ Archer mused. _Harry, do you have the acceptance letter with you still?_

_Huh? Yeah, just a moment. _Harry rooted through a pile. _Here it is._

_Analyze it. _

Harry did so and immediately threw the letter away from him. _There's an enchantment on it! _He thought, outraged._ It compels the recipient to rely mainly on parchment and quills! Why would they do something like that?_

_Judging by what we saw earlier today, I'm sure it's because of tradition. The Clocktower in my world placed a great deal of importance on that. Wasn't there a Statute of Secrecy or something?_

Harry thought about what Archer said. _But it still doesn't make sense._

_Think about what you just said, Harry. Magic doesn't normally make sense. _

Harry looked over his shoulder at the standing mirror, and quirked an eyebrow so Archer could see it too. _Ha ha, very funny. But at least now that I know that the enchantment is there, I'm not going to fall for it. I'll be sure to bring pens and notebooks along with me. I'm not about to give up their usefulness to satisfy these wizards' love of tradition._

Harry's words struck a chord in Archer, who was strangely reminded of the man known as Emiya Kiritsugu, a man who was infamously known as the Magus Killer, and a person who view magecraft as nothing more than a tool.

_Anyway, back to the thing we were discussing in the bookshop. I'm supposedly famous for defeating the dark lord Voldemort in Godric's Hollow on October 31st, 1981. According to this book, _Harry tapped one of the non-syllabus books he bought_, Only four people should have been present. Yet it seems everyone knows- I mean, _thinks_ that _I_ killed the guy. But there's no body at all._

_And your conclusion? _Archer prompted.

_The Boy-Who-Lived is a hoax. Someone else made up the story, casting me as the hero. The likeliest reason for Voldemort's downfall was some kind of suicide attack by either my dad or mom, or both. There's no way a one year old baby could have defeated the 'greatest dark lord of modern times'._

_What else?_

_This. _Harry picked up _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble. _According to this, the Killing Curse kills its victim in a flash of green light without leaving a mark on the body. That would explain what I've been seeing in my nightmares. But how does it explain _this_? _Harry looked at the mirror, brushing up his fringe to reveal the faint lightning bolt scar. _If he used the Killing Curse on me, why do I have this scar? But there's no clear answer that I can think of at the moment._

_So back to the earlier question, about who set you up. Who is the person who could have made you the hero?_

Harry traded the book in his hand for the one about events in the twentieth century. _There are various possible culprits, but only one stands out for various reasons. And one of those reasons is being somebody that most people would believe._

He flipped through the book until he reached the page he wanted.

_Gellert Grindlewald?_

_Will you stop joking? It's the other guy._ Harry jabbed his finger down at the other, familiar name present.

Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

(1) According to Type-Moon wiki, a Mystic Code is a support weapon carried by an adult magus, and comes in two types. The first is support-based, either through storing prana, or amplifying the spell. The other, which Archer falls under, is the type that results in a predetermined effect when charged with prana.

(2) Eskrima is the traditional martial arts of Philippines, which emphasizes weapon-based fighting with sticks, knives or bladed weapons.

So that's my first story chapter for Fate Prophecy Break. I hope I managed to flesh out my new version of Harry enough. Strong sense of righteousness, a great deal of determination, and a healthy amount of anger. But mostly I'm just feeling it out as I go. Archer is more of a restraining presence meant to temper Harry's mood, than an actual Servant who will guard his Master.

I can't find my copy of the first book, so I wrote most of the so-called canon lines according to how I remember them, relying on the wiki for the information-type information.

As for mechanics of magic, I took a lot from the Harry Potter wiki. I didn't think canon Harry's holly wand would match this Harry, so I scanned through the wiki for the type of woods that matched his new character, and ended up settling on hawthorn, which leads to the creation of wands that are 'as full of paradoxes as the tree that gave it birth'. Doesn't it fit Harry, with the existence of Archer's Unlimited Blade Works inside him? (not in the form of Heaven's Feel Shirou, though, or Harry would turn into a pincushion of blades)

I don't really know what else I might need to put in these author notes, so I'm ending this here with a request for reviews. Updates will be slow, since I have a job, and I usually write on inspiration.


	4. Second Spell

"The more I learn about the Wizarding World, the less I like it." grumbled Harry out loud as he put aside yet another book on top of a pile that was higher than his head.

_Having a change of mind regarding your decision? _Archer sounded amused.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, then remembered he didn't have to. _I'm starting to. On the other hand, I have no problems with magic..._

_I'm still finding it a little hard to reconcile with the definition of magic in this world, _Archer confessed, _Magic in my world is defined as the achievement of an effect that is otherwise impossible through conventional or magecraft means, but this world uses classifies everything that comes from the use of prana as magic. _

_Sometimes I'm not sure whether I prefer your world over mine... _Harry thought back absently as he picked up one of the medical (or Healing, to be specific) texts. _It sounds so much more amazing... _"Structural Analysis."

After Harry was finished looking over his first set of purchases from Diagon Alley, he returned to that place many times over the next few weeks to buy various other items to supplement his desire for knowledge, mainly books from Flourish & Blott's. It wasn't very hard for him to persuade the shop employees to sell him what he wanted, given how well Harry could act as a curious Muggleborn with a clear desire to learn, and the amount of money he was willing to spend just to get what he wanted. It was lucky his vault at Gringotts was so well-stocked that his expenditures hardly put a dent in the fortune within.

As for Archer, rather than stop Harry, encouraged his pursuits as the spirit was curious to find out how much of a difference there was between this world and the one he came from. Things couldn't have been more different; Archer himself described the state of the Wizarding World as 'medieval trying to imitate the modern, without most of the benefits'. Harry was confused at first, but after some explanation, grew to see Archer's point of view. The spirit also had to explain about some of the organizations that were present in his world, like Atlas, the Mages' Association and Clock Tower, and the Holy Church, the last one intriguing Harry with its absence since religion existed here as well, but seemed to be ignored entirely by wizards.

Rather, organizations in Harry's world consisted mainly of nations and their governing bodies, like the Ministry of Magic in each country, the Wizengamot in Britain, and the International Confederation of Wizards. And it didn't look very favorable; Harry felt a phantom pain on his forehead when Archer came across the names of some of the more foolish Departments in Britain's Ministry of Magic, and Harry got more evidence of the bigotry that seemed to be present in the Wizarding World when Archer explained what he meant when he said he observed the presence of a 'glass ceiling'. It was enough to make Harry throw up his hands in disgust and put aside those books temporarily. In spite of everything, he was still just a boy, and found sociology less interesting compared to magic.

_I have to say, I'm impressed that you came up with this idea, _Archer commented as they looked at the piles of books read, _Using Structural Analysis to the extent that you are aware of the printed text on each page._

_I have you to thank for the strong foundation. _Harry retorted, most of his attention focused on the book in his hands. _If not for the fact that you made me analyze dozens of objects on a daily basis... _"Structural Analysis."

Harry was secretly pleased that he managed to get Archer's compliment, despite his tone. Even so, it took the better part of two weeks before Harry managed to accomplish the deed. He first started out with a single sentence on a piece of paper, analyzing it repeatedly until he was able to perceive the printed text clearly in his mind. From there on, Harry worked on analyzing increasingly longer texts, refining his Structural Analysis magecraft to instantly know what was printed. It got harder with every additional page he attempted to analyze at a single time, but he didn't give up, flipping through the pages rapidly while he analyzed to the limits of his ability in order to improve it. The only downsides Harry encountered so far were that he did not always understand the text, and that he could only recall the contents of a thick book perfectly for half an hour before the memory started deteriorating.

_You- _Archer cut himself off mid-sentence as the information from the latest book filled their minds. _Huh, this _IS_ interesting..._

Harry wasn't as informed, since this was one of those he didn't understand. _What is it, Archer?_

_According to this book, wizards have a magical core that supplies the magic required to cast spells, which grows from birth until it stabilizes with the wizard's maturity. The stronger the core, the longer the wizard is likely to live._

_That doesn't sound much different from what you explained about od. _Harry frowned, wondering what Archer was trying to say.

_Remember that book about the works of great wizards just now? A wizard is able to do great workings on his own. This is unlike magi in mine, who normally use od to start their bigger spells and mana to sustain it._

Harry started. _You mean..._

_Yes. Your wizards are fundamentally stronger than my magi. Maybe that accounts for the reason that wizards tend to be hardier... _Archer mused._ That's not to say that it isn't possible to use the magic of nature, or mana, in this world, but for some reason there's very little mention of it._

_Why? _The boy considered the question, but couldn't come up with any answer on his own.

_What do you think of the Dark Arts? _

_They are really sadistic, I guess? Some of them are really gruesome... _He suddenly hit on the answer. _Some of them... aren't. Wait... _Harry grabbed one of the books he previously finished and began scanning through it again. _This one. This one doesn't really seem Dark at all. _

_Actually, it is. You want the next one._

_...I still don't see how. But never mind. _Harry obligingly turned the page. _Okay, so this one is practically harmless, yet it has been marked Dark. The question is why. All it does is to grant a temporary boost in the caster's power. A lot of people would want to be stronger-_

_Don't forget that beings tend to fear those stronger than themselves._

Harry stared at the book, then flung it at the pile, knocking it over. _The Ministry again! So if this is what they ban, then what else have they done? Hide knowledge of magic that could bring them down! That explains why that Voldemort scared them. He knew stuff they were too afraid of!_

_Harry, you're overreacting again, _Archer admonished.

Harry stopped himself and forced his breathing back into the pattern he trained himself in. _Sorry. _

_You really have to get that temper of yours under control, _lectured Archer. _Flying off the handle is never a good thing._

_I know, I know. _Harry replied grumpily.

The door banged open, admitting an irate foster mother. "Harry! What was that noise- Are you still reading? It's past midnight! Go to sleep already! You're supposed to be up early tomorrow to catch the train!"

As Harry was packed off to bed with Archer sniggering in his mind, both of them had their own thoughts and worries about what the future would bring.

* * *

"Harry, did you forget anything?"

Harry looked at his three-compartment trunk, mentally running through the list of items he was bringing. "No, I don't think so. Besides, if I do forget anything, I'll just send Ilya back for it."

The owl in question hooted from her cage.

On the thirty-first of July, Harry's birthday, Hermione came over early in the morning to surprise him, and ended up getting included in his foster parents' plan to celebrate his birthday. They went to watch a movie, visited a zoo (where Harry was surprised and troubled to find out he could talk to snakes), before heading to Diagon Alley. There, they had a particularly enjoyable meal at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor before visiting the various shops, whose shopkeepers already knew Harry by now (it took a few secretly signed autographs to avoid the hubbub he would have caused if his presence was made public).

By chance, Harry ran into a giant of a man, who instantly recognized him by his eyes, and almost made a scene if not for Harry kicking the man in the shin repeatedly to keep him quiet (It took a great deal of Reinforcement to have an effect). He came away with a rather large amount of information, such as the man, who was named Rubeus Hagrid and the Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts, being the one who took him from the wreckage of his parents' home, and was on some errand collecting something from Gringotts for Dumbledore. When he heard it was Harry's birthday, Hagrid insisted on getting him an owl, and bought him a beautiful snowy owl. While Harry thought it stood out a bit too much, he didn't want to hurt the giant man's feelings, and accepted it. The name Ilya, short for Ilyasviel, came from Archer, who said that the white color reminded him of a little girl he used to know. Harry sensed the underlying emotions and decided not to ask any further.

His foster parents wanted to buy him a broomstick as a novelty gift, only to receive a long lecture by the shop employee on the various virtues of the many different brooms, until Harry saved them by reminding the adults that as a first-year student, he was not allowed to have one. In the end, they bought him a wand holster from Ollivander's instead. Throughout the entire time he was in the old man's shop, Harry kept thinking back to what he found out on one of the times he returned to Diagon Alley.

*(Flashback)*

_Ollivander looked genuinely surprised to see Harry enter his shop. "Mr Potter, I hadn't expected to see you again."_

_Harry looked around, checking that he was the only other one present. "The last time I came, you said something that bothered me."_

_Ollivander's gaze sharpened. "Am I right to assume this has to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"_

_"That... and one other thing." Harry added on the last bit after Archer reminded him._

_The old shopkeeper stared at him for a moment longer, before settling himself down on a spindly chair. "Ask away then, Mr Potter."_

_"You said you sold the wand that left me this scar," Harry pointed at the mark his fringe covered, "Do you know the name of the wizard you sold it to?"_

_"Ah, thirteen and a half inches, yew. I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter. Every single wand." Ollivander had a grave expression. "I sold it many, many years ago, to a young child by the name of Riddle."_

_"Riddle? Does he have a first name?" Harry asked, ignoring Archer's feeling of surprise in the back of his mind._

_"I'm sorry to say, Mr Potter, that while my memory for wands, and the people who bought them, is infallible, I was not privy to the name of that child."_

It's a start, Harry, _spoke Archer, _Let's ask about the other wand.

_"Mr Ollivander, do you remember one of the wands you tried with me when I first came? Holly and phoenix feather, it was."_

_Ollivander perked up. "Why yes, Mr Potter. It is an unusual combination, and I had my hopes that it would be the wand that picked you."_

_"Why?" Harry pressed._

_The old man got off his seat and went into the depths of his shop, returning with a wand box in his hands. "This wand... it so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in it, gave one other feather only. And that other wand, its brother, why, its brother gave you that scar."_

_Whatever Harry had to say in reply was lost when a family entered the shop, and he slipped out without any words of goodbye._

*(End Flashback)*

Harry wasn't sure he would have liked it if that wand had chosen him. It had multiple implications, one of which was that he would be seen as the polar opposite to Voldemort, a Light Lord to a Dark Lord, and he certainly didn't want that, heroic aspirations or not. Oddly, whenever he tried to discuss becoming a hero with Archer, the spirit would act very cagey, in spite of all the training Archer gave him.

"Alright, Harry. Off you go now. Be sure to write!" His foster mother waved as he walked out the door. "And don't give your teachers any trouble, you hear?"

"Yes, Aunt Diana." Harry returned the wave before heading down to the waiting car. "Good morning, Mr and Mrs Granger, Hermione. Thanks for offering to give me a ride." After loading his luggage, he got into the backseat with Ilya's cage, and pulled out the package of sugar-free sweets in his jacket to nibble on, taking off the cap he used to cover his hair.

"Is that the present I gave you?" Hermione looked happy to see him holding onto it.

"Yes it is." Harry said shortly, but handed one over to her anyway.

"It's... slightly past nine now. King's Cross Station, wasn't it? We'll be there with plenty of time to spare." Mr Granger said as he started the car and began driving.

Ever since Harry and Hermione's first meeting, they began acting more friendly towards each other, having conversations over the phone and visiting each other at their respective homes to trade and discuss books. Like Harry, Hermione returned to Diagon Alley many times over, all to get books, so they had plenty to talk about, though they avoided the touchy subjects like Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore.

"I can't believe they would sell us substandard cauldrons!" Hermione was saying for the umpteenth time.

"I explained it to you already, Hermione." Harry began tiredly, having gone through this many times before, "They want to make money. If the pewter cauldron we're using melts, we have to buy another, thus bringing them more business." He recited a small part of what Archer had told him when he had asked about it, the only part he truly understood.

"Listen to Harry, Hermione. He knows what he's talking about." Mr Granger told his daughter from the front seat.

Hermione grumbled, but didn't say anything further.

Harry sighed and looked out the window. One of Hermione's biggest personality traits, and one of the most annoying, was her strong insistence on the difference between right and wrong. Harry had a tough time trying to get her to tone it down, especially when he put forward his theory of bigotry in the Wizarding World, but at least he was starting to get through. Still, he was slightly worried about how Hermione would hold up when she actually experienced it for herself.

"Don't worry, Hermione. If yours melt, I'll give you one of the spares I brought along." _Especially since I don't need them now that I've got the hang of Reinforcing them._

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry happened to notice the pewter cauldrons' tendency to melt after long periods of use when he analyzed them as part of his training, and one of the first things he thought of was to Reinforce them so that they would work fine without melting over the flame. Like with his Structural Analysis reading, it took a few tries, and a series of melted cauldrons, but he eventually managed to master the skill, leaving him with three spare cauldrons.

"Did you try any of the spells, Harry?" Hermione changed the subject.

"Just _Lumos, Alohomora_ and _Reparo_." Harry replied vaguely as he let Ilya nibble the finger he poked into her cage, "They're very useful."

As Hermione chattered about the spells she managed to cast successfully, Harry was thinking about magic. The opinion he had come to was that the wizards' brand of magic involved the manifestation of concepts through the energy they had within themselves, like the three spells he mentioned earlier having the concepts of Light, Unlocking, and Fixing respectively. According to his books, they were one of the most common spells, used by nearly anyone who had a wand. That went against what Archer told him about thaumaturgy, where magecraft was reliant on a fixed amount of power from the Root, thus the more mages there were, the weaker their individual power would be. It was a interesting difference that Harry was intending to look into in the future.

_Going by that line of logic, Root does not exist. But if that's true, then Archer's Tracing and my magecraft technically shouldn't work. So either there IS a Root, or... _Harry shook his head. _This is making my head hurt. According to Archer, there is only one person he knows who has any experience with alternate realities, and finding that guy is a nearly impossible task._

_If you value your peace of mind, you won't ever try._

_So you're finally talking to me again?_

_I never stopped. _

_Say, Archer..._

_Yes?_

_How can you stand not being able to move around on your own in there? _Harry asked tentatively.

_I told you about the Throne of Heroes, haven't I? It's not really that much of a difference. If I really want to, I can move all I want inside my own world in here. _

The image of blades scattered over an endless dry plain flashed across Harry's eyes, making the boy shudder. _A bit boring (and morbid, _Harry added in a way that Archer couldn't hear) _for me. But as long as you're fine with it._

Harry felt the car come to a stop with Archer's dry laughter in his mind, and proceeded to get down and retrieve his luggage. "Thanks for the ride, Mr Granger." He thanked the older man, pulling on his cap once more.

"You're welcome, Harry. Keep an eye out for Hermione for us, will you?"

The boy nodded even as the girl attempted to argue her independence. "Sure."

They loaded their trunks on a trolley, and entered the station, looking for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and finding the entrance to it in the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Harry got another look at how the wizards' bounded field kept the non-magicals out as no matter what Hermione's parents tried, they couldn't approach it, while other people, clearly wizards, walked into it and vanished without any non-magicals noticing. In the end, the adults gave up and told the children to go ahead without them, giving last minute instructions to look after themselves and each other, listen to the teachers, study hard, and write back often. Nodding, the pair of kids pushed their trolley ahead of them and passed through the barrier.

Harry's first look at the Platform made him raise his eyebrows; the place was starting to fill up with students and their families, but the thing that stood out the most was a scarlet steam engine waiting for passengers. A glance behind him showed an iron arch where the barrier was; clearly what was on the outside was a well-constructed illusion. Aside from the people, there were cats and owls of various colors, the latter group hooting and screeching to each other and making a racket.

"Come on! Let's get on the train! We're going to be late." Hermione was bouncing on her feet, clearly eager to go.

Personally, Harry thought they had plenty of time, seeing as it was only a quarter past ten, but he didn't argue and followed her down the platform until they found a carriage that wasn't already packed with students. Being the only male in their group, he took it upon himself to carry their heavy trunks onto the carriage and load them onto the racks, using Reinforcement to make the job easier. Just as he was about to bring Ilya in as well, the owl hooted at him.

"What's the matter, girl?" He watched the owl fan her wings insistently. "You want to come out? Okay then."

He opened the cage, and the owl took off, flying upwards and circling down to land on his outstretched arm.

"We're going to Hogwarts, Ilya. Can you meet us there?"

Ilya pinched his arm with her talons, then flew off into the sky with Harry watching her. Once she was nothing more than a speck to his eyes, Harry shut the cage door and got into the train.

"How did you do that?" Hermione demanded the moment he entered their compartment, from where she had watched the whole thing.

"We came to an understanding." Harry replied mysteriously.

The girl scowled, like she always did whenever he refused to give a straightforward answer, and settled back into her seat with one of the first-year books. Harry took the seat opposite hers, next to the window, and started studying the people passing by, occasionally attempting to analyze the structures around him. He could identify who were the Pureblooded families, as the adults and teenagers tended to have a certain look to their expressions to go with the robes they already wore, and they usually came through the green fire or appeared from a marked-out area (Floo and Apparation, Harry recalled), while those who entered from the barrier wearing non-magical clothes were usually Muggleborns. Harry spotted some students who were already wearing their school robes, and took note of the different color trimming on them (Red for Gryffindor, Blue for Ravenclaw, Green for Slytherin, and Yellow for Hufflepuff). He didn't miss how the green-wearing ones tended to sneer at the others, nor how they seemed to have a bad relationship with those wearing red, to the point that they might have fought if given the slightest incentive.

_Stupid House rivalry. _Harry thought disgustedly. _I can understand wanting to compete with each other, but this is taking it too far._

_We still haven't seen everything yet, Harry. Hold off for now. _

_I know, Archer. Information is important, like you taught me._

"Oh!"

Harry looked at Hermione, who had gasped as she looked out the window. "What's wrong?"

"We're supposed to wear our school robes! I have got to get changed!"

Before he could tell her she was overreacting, Harry found himself kicked out of the compartment, and thus leading him to start exploring. He thought about how he would introduce himself, and hit upon the idea of using his own name as a conversation starter, as long as he kept it to the first-year students, while he would ask senior students for tips they could give about Hogwarts in his role as an ignorant little firstie. With that, he pulled out the notebook he carried, and set out to interact with others.

To his delight, his idea worked brilliantly; nearly everyone was discussing the Boy-Who-Lived, and Harry was only too happy to keep them distracted while he asked about the various Houses under the guise of speculating which one Harry Potter would get into, while casually dropping hints about his character to make the senior students think he was likely to go into their House so they were more likely to provide information. The tactic only failed with the Slytherins, most of whom viewed his clothing to mean that he was a Muggle and therefore not worthy of their attention, except for a few kindly ones. The degree to which everyone seemed to worship the Boy-Who-Lived was a little intimidating, and for Harry, annoying, but he managed to hide his irritation and pretend that it had nothing to do with him, especially since they didn't bring up the books. Occasionally, he met a smart student who thought to ask his name, but he maintained his disguise by giving his middle name James instead, buying enough time to pretend that he forgot to say goodbye to his parents and thus needed to leave. Still, he managed to get hold of some interesting pieces of information about certain people in the school to look out for, namely the Weaselys (who had four children attending this year with one more the next), the young son of Lucius Malfoy, and one Professor Severus Snape.

_Most of them seem to be under the impression that I will go into Gryffindor, the so-called House of Light. _Harry thought to Archer as he made his escape from yet another compartment before the inhabitants remembered to ask his name.

_Judging by how well you've been playing everyone, I'd say you're more likely to go into Slytherin._ Archer commented amusedly.

_The Savior of the Wizarding World, a 'slimy Slytherin'. I bet most will start saying that I'm going to be a Dark Wizard or something... _"Structural Analysis." Harry breathed, looking at the floor in the connecting section between two carriages.

Two hands suddenly landed on his shoulders. "Here now! What's an ickle firstie like you doing down here by his lonesome?"

Harry looked around and instantly recognized the person who had surprised him despite never meeting him before. _Red hair and freckles... older than me. So this is one of the Weasely Twins!_ "I was just looking around."

"Looking around, eh? Some people don't like that, you know." Despite the redhead's words, he didn't seem to mean any harm.

"Why wouldn't they like that?" Harry asked, frowning. "It's not like I'm up to no good."

The older boy grinned. "That's because... some of us _are_ up to no good."

"Fred? Who's that you got there?" Another redhead, identical to the first, came up behind his brother. "Oho, a firstie, huh?"

"You know, I hear Harry Potter is on this train." Harry tried his idea.

"Yeah, we've been hearing that too."

"Trying to find him?"

The boy stared, taken aback at how synchronized they sounded, as though one person had said both lines. "Well... I don't need to." He blurted out.

"You mean you-"

"-found him already?"

_Oh no, I didn't mean to say that! Good thing they misunderstood. _"Oh yeah," Harry tried to remember where he left Hermione, "I saw him down that way." He pointed back where he had came from.

"Cool, wonder if he knows what You-Know-Who looks like?" The first twin said.

_Finally! Somebody has given me the chance! Everybody so far just talked about the Boy-Who-Lived, but these guys finally mentioned Voldemort's stupid nickname! _Harry had been planning this for a long time. "Who? I don't know who you're referring to."

This time, the second twin answered. "You know, the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Who must not be named?"

"You-Know-Who."

"I don't know who." Harry said with a straight face, hearing Archer's snickering in his mind.

"..." Both twins stared at him.

"So, who?" The boy asked innocently.

"You know, Fred..." The first twin, who Harry thought WAS named Fred, spoke seriously and slowly.

"...I think we, the Weasely Twins..." His twin replied.

"...are being pranked here." They chorused.

_Woah, how do they do that? _Harry finally broke down and grinned at the redheads, who grinned back.

"Fred and George Weasely, at your service. You can call us..." The second twin, standing on Harry's left, stuck out his left hand.

"Gred and Forge." The other redhead completed, mirroring his twin's action. "What's your name, little firstie?"

_What do you think, Archer? Safe enough to tell them my name?_

_I don't see why not. Everyone will know who you are eventually. Besides, it's not like you'll have anything to lose._

Harry reached up and pulled off his cap, displaying his white hair and black fringe, and putting it under his armpit before taking their offered hands. "Harry Potter."

Both twins froze, then they started shaking his hands vigorously with their grins widening. "A double prank! Gred, I think we've got competition here!"

"You said it, Forge!"

They continued shaking his hands for a while, before Harry finally extracted them and put his cap back on.

"So, little Harry, do you remember what You-Know-, I mean," One of the twins corrected himself, "The Dark Lord you defeated, looked like?"

"No, I'm not even sure how it happened, myself. But enough about me, what about you two? I heard you were quite the pranksters."

"Did you hear that, George?" (Harry was starting to get tired of trying to figure out which of them was which when they kept switching like this)

"Yeah, our reputation seemed to have extended to the likes of Harry Potter!"

"You know, Harry-"

"Our little sister, Ginny-"

"-happens to be a biiiig fan of yours."

"I don't suppose she wants an autograph, does she?" Harry asked shortly, his good mood vanishing.

"Well, as a matter of fact..." The twin on his right started uncertainly.

"...She would." The one on his left completed, and they both looked at him with some expectation.

Harry sighed explosively. _Just when I thought I could act normal around these guys... _"Fine. But tell that sister of yours this: I never did any of the things in those books, and I don't really see why she wants a signature from a normal person." He rattled off, pulling out his pen and notebook.

"Wait, but didn't you-"

"-get rid of You-Know-Who?"

Harry tore off a page, dashed off his signature, and thrust it into the hands of one of the twins. "Maybe I did, or maybe my parents sacrificed their lives to do so, but I can certainly tell you that the _storybooks_ are lies. Goodbye."

Now in a bad mood, Harry stomped off back to his compartment, where he silenced Hermione with a glare just as she was about to ask where he was. However, the silence only lasted for a few minutes before she finally broke it.

"Did... somebody mention those books?" She asked hesitantly.

His reply was short. "Yes."

"Oh."

_You did a good job holding back, Harry, _encouraged Archer.

Harry grunted, just as the train started to move. Looking out the window, Harry spotted a small redheaded girl running down the platform, and his eyes narrowed as his vision caught sight of the familiar paper in her grip. Feeling annoyed all over again, Harry turned away from the window and crossed his arms huffily.

"We're finally going to Hogwarts." Hermione said with a note of joy in her voice.

Harry opened his mouth to deliver a sarcastic reply, then thought better of it. "Yes, we are. Which subject are you looking into?"

"Charms." Hermione replied promptly. "Yours is Transfiguration, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Harry found the area of Transfiguration rather intriguing, and his Structural Analysis gave him a clear awareness of an item's existence, which was extremely useful according to the books he read. He didn't have to imagine it, he KNEW it.

The door suddenly opened to reveal a blond round-faced boy. "Um, excuse me, i-is there anyone else sitting here?" He quavered.

Hermione spoke before Harry could say anything. "No one else is with us. Come on in."

Harry frowned at the girl, but helped the other boy get settled in. He didn't like being around people.

_That's just your bad mood talking. You were able to interact pretty well with those people earlier and in your school. _Archer pointed out. _I don't blame you for your actions when you're in a bad mood, but sometimes you might end up putting other people off because of it. And you're going to be around a lot of people in this school, far more than your previous one._

Chastened, Harry took a look at himself and admitted that he wouldn't like to interact with someone who acted like he had. So he made an effort to try to get to know the boy, who introduced himself as Neville Longbottom.

_Longbottom? That's one of the old families, like the Potters. _"Harry Potter." He watched Neville closely as Hermione introduced herself as well, and saw the usual glance at his forehead. _But he doesn't act like any of the other Purebloods. _

"A-are you really Ha-Harry Potter?"

"Are you implying that I don't know who I am?" came out of Harry's mouth before he could stop himself, and Harry winced. "Sorry, I'm not in a good mood at the moment."

"No, no, I shouldn't have asked..." Neville trailed off.

"Never mind. Anyway, Neville, can I call you that?" Harry waited for Neville to nod. "Did your parents-" He immediately stopped, narrowing his eyes at Neville's shrinking reaction. "You know what, never mind."

Instantly, Neville relaxed. Clearly the issue of his parents was a touchy one for the chubby boy.

Too bad Hermione wasn't as empathic. "What's wrong with your parents?" She asked, making Harry wince slightly with her bluntness.

Neville stared at her, before looking down and muttering something. "...in St. Mungo's." Harry Reinforced his hearing and managed to catch with the end. _St. Mungo's... that's the wizards' hospital... something must have happened to them._

"What did you say-"

"Hermione. No." Harry shook his head when the girl looked at him, and pointed at the part where his scar was before pointing at himself, then at Neville in turn, who still had his head hung.

It took a moment, but Hermione gasped when she understood what Harry meant. Something had happened to Neville's parents, and it was a touchy matter for Neville, just like Harry's scar was for him. She instantly went quiet, casting apologetic looks at the other boy.

Neville, who looked up when the question was left incomplete, realized that the other person in the compartment was responsible. "...thanks, Harry." He muttered, looking gratefully at the other boy.

"You're welcome." Harry answered, his eyes watching the London countryside go past.

Around twelve, there was a series of clatters down the corridor followed by a knock at the compartment door, and it opened to show a smiling woman. It was the lunch lady that sold food and snacks to the students on the train (according to Hogwarts: A History), and Harry bought a few Cauldron Cakes and Licorice Wands, plus a pack of Chocolate Frogs for the other two. Hermione frowned at him when he offered her some, having been raised to avoid sweets by her dentist parents, but he persisted until she accepted them. Neville was only too happy to get some, though Harry personally thought that the chubby boy could use some exercise.

_I second that. _Archer suddenly added.

_What ARE you doing in there? You've been quite quiet most of the time._

_Just thinking to myself. It's not like I have much to do in here... _

_Are you complaining now?_

_Why would I be? It's not like this is any different from the Throne of Heroes._

Harry sighed out loud. _Sometimes, Archer, I can't tell if you're joking or not._

"Harry, I don't think it's healthy for you to sigh so much." Hermione chided.

_Now see what you've made me do. _Harry just looked at her and sighed again, making her frown.

As time passed and the scenery outside turned from green fields to woody hills and rivers, Harry proceeded to question Neville on what he knew about the Wizarding World, further increasing his and Hermione's dislike for its society when Neville revealed how his elder relatives had put him into life-threatening situations to get him to exhibit signs of magic. It was clear that the society placed a great deal of importance on magic, as Neville's extended family had celebrated by getting him a toad when he had bounced instead of falling to his death, and really looked down on those who were weak, or didn't have it at all, like Muggles or their Wizarding counterpart, Squibs. For his part, Neville was awed to hear about the advances made in the non-magical world, occasionally sounding disbelieving as he fired question after question at a rate only slightly slower than Harry and Hermione.

The compartment door suddenly slid open without any warning, causing Harry to tense up, only to squint at the trio that had appeared in the doorway. The boy in the center stood out immediately with his white-blond hair and pale, pointed face in contrast to the heavy-looking and threatening companions (or bodyguards) standing on either side. Harry instantly readied himself for a fight, recognizing the clear signs of a group of bullies, and Reinforcing his body slightly.

"No, I don't think Harry Potter would be sitting with a bunch of _Muggles_." The leader of the group made the term 'Muggles' sound like an insult (Harry thought it already was). Then he caught sight of Neville. "Oh, Longbottom. Figures _you_ would be sitting with Muggles too. Come on, Crabbe, Goyle."

The boy left, not even bothering to close the door, and Harry dutifully closed it before looking at Neville questioningly. "I assume that was Malfoy?" _What those girls said was true, white-blond hair and a stuck-up attitude... these Purebloods all know each other._

Neville nodded jerkily. "Why didn't you tell him who you were, Harry?"

Harry relaxed, letting his Reinforcement fade. "I didn't see any point. He had his own opinion already, and it seemed useless to try and change it." Harry snickered, continuing, "Besides, don't you find it funny that he practically missed what was right under his nose?" He suddenly realized that Hermione was quiet, and looked at her.

She had an expression of shock and disbelief on her face, clearly in response to the Malfoy boy's attitude.

"I told you that bigotry existed here, Hermione." He told her, feeling a bit sorry for her.

Hermione nodded. "I know... it's just that... I can't believe that _anyone_ could act like that."

Harry kept silent, though he sensed Archer's pity for the girl. Both boy and spirit already knew how humans could be, with their combined experiences.

"Oh no, Trevor's missing!" Neville suddenly exclaimed, looking around at the floor of their compartment frantically.

"Trevor? Oh, right, the toad your Great-Uncle bought for you." Harry wondered if there was any point to having a toad, since they seemed to be totally useless compared to an owl or a cat, unless one was willing to cut them up for Potions ingredients. "I read that there's a spell to summon the things you are looking for. You should try asking an older student to do that for you." He suggested.

Hearing that, the other boy calmed down. "That's great! Thanks for telling me that, Harry. I'll go and find one right now."

After Neville left the compartment, Hermione immediately questioned Harry on where he had read that.

"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four. I read ahead out of curiosity."

Harry couldn't help but feel amused when Hermione seemed undecided between trying to get a look at the charm in question, or scolding him for reading something he shouldn't be for another three years.

* * *

As the evening approached, Harry and Neville, who managed to retrieve his toad, got changed into their school robes while Hermione went to ask the conductor about the arrival time. Her actions turned out to be unneeded, as a voice announced that they were soon arriving and asked them to leave their luggage on the train for it to be taken separately. Harry frowned at that request, but since he had no way of disobeying, he made sure that his luggage was locked securely and analyzed it so he could check if again afterwards.

He disembarked with the other students onto a small platform in cold, but thankfully dry, weather, and watched as the elder students headed off towards- Harry blinked, for a moment he thought he saw skeletal horses, but the carriages were clearly horseless.

_Archer, did you see that?_

_I see them VERY clearly, Harry. _Archer replied, his tone troubled.

Harry squinted, and could almost make out the skeletal horses, who seemed to fade in and out of his vision. _Why can you see them but I can't?_

_That is another question I have no answer to, Harry. You know what you have to do._

The boy groaned. _Find out myself._

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" A voice he recognized as Hagrid's came calling down the platform, and he turned in its direction to see the small glow of a handheld lantern.

Sharpening his eyes with Reinforcement, he could see the giant man looking searchingly through the crowd, and ducked his head to hide his face under the brim of the tacky Hogwarts hat. Beside him, Hermione gripped his hand tightly out of nervousness, and he Reinforced it as well to deal with her intense strength.

Hagrid eventually gave up, and led them all down a steep, narrow path that most students slipped and stumbled on, apart from Harry with his enhanced vision. Eventually, they reached the edge of a huge lake, giving Harry his first view of Hogwarts Castle. Standing atop a mountain that had a size that matched the lake's, with many turrets and towers, all its windows flickering with what he knew to be torchlight. Even from here, Harry could sense the bounded fields that encompassed the place; they spoke of its long age and time spent developing its power.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, directing them to a fleet of small boats that sat waiting by the shore.

Harry got into one, followed by Hermione and Neville. They were soon joined by another red-haired boy that Harry identified as another Weasely, and they were off. Harry shivered slightly, feeling very vulnerable despite knowing how to swim. The surface of the lake was eerily smooth, and it felt like something could attack them at any time. The redhead tried to strike up a conversation even as his voice quavered, but none of the others sharing his boat answered him, and he eventually fell silent as well, along with all the other first-years as the castle itself loomed above them. Harry tensed up even further as the boats approached the bottom of the cliff, where a curtain of ivy awaited.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled from his own boat, and they ducked their heads obediently to avoid the ivy.

Harry hissed slightly as he felt the bounded fields inspect him, and mark him magically as a student. _So this rite of passage for first-year students is meant to key them in. But why am I the only one to feel it? _Harry gave the other students looks of irritation, which they misinterpreted as his taking offence for their snickering, since he was the only one wearing the Hogwarts hat.

_Possibly a side effect of your magecraft. It didn't sense me... _Archer trailed off.

His host sensed his pensive mood. _What is it, Archer?_

_It's nothing. _Archer replied with a note of finality, putting an end to the discussion before it even started. _Careful with your Analyzing. We don't know if it might trigger something, so hold off for now._

Harry got off with the rest of the students in an underground harbor, staying far away from Hagrid so the giant man wouldn't recognize him. Archer already identified Hagrid as the sort to be very poor at keeping secrets, and Harry didn't really think it was a good thing if his identity was revealed now. He waited for Hagrid to finished checking the boats, before following the man upwards and emerging out onto a lawn in the dark shadow of the castle. Most of the students relied on Hagrid's lantern, thus Harry had to slow down his movements to stay with the group. They crossed the lawn and went up a flight of stone steps that led to a huge oak door, which Hagrid knocked on three times. It opened immediately to reveal Professor McGonagall in emerald green robes and a witches' hat, and Hermione let out a gasp of recognition on seeing the professor who had introduced her to the Wizarding World. Hagrid handed the students off to her, and took off while they entered the entrance hall, a place that was big enough to fit a typical two-storey house and lit with multiple flaming torches. She led them across it and into a small side-chamber, with the sound of what must be the elder students rumbling through the other set of large doors in the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," She began, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats with the older students in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

_Isolation... seems like the sort of thing that polarizes Houses against each other._

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

_Archer? What do you make of this? _Harry asked.

_If you ask me, _Archer snorted, _I'd say this is a use of peer pressure to keep students in line. I'd recommend finding out how much _honor_ this House Cup actually brings._

_I doubt it'll elevate the student responsible to the ranks of Heroic Spirits. _Harry quipped, to Archer's laughter.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes travelled across the group, clearly spotting some less-than-ideal appearances, though she started a little when she caught sight of Harry, who definitely stood out with his hat. "I... I shall return when we are ready." Professor McGonagall left the room, clearly flustered by Harry's sharp gaze.

The students immediately fell to discussing the Sorting and what it might involve. Harry scoffed at the idea the younger Weasely put forward about having to wrestle a troll.

"Who told you that?"

"My brother, Fred." The redhead stammered, clearly worried.

"Would this happen to be a certain Fred Weasely, known prankster?" Harry said pointedly.

"Yes, how do you know that?"

"A prankster who would probably think it's fun to lie to his little brother about stuff?"

Weasely instantly looked outraged. "Yo-you mean, Fred LIED to me?"

"Of course he did." Harry turned away and looked at the other students who had been listening in. They all looked relieved that they wouldn't have to wrestle any trolls. _Just how gullible are these kids?_

Hermione tugged on his sleeve desperately. "Psst, what do you think the Sorting is? Do you think I need any of the spells I learned?"

"We don't need any." Harry replied shortly.

"How do you know that? None of us knows what the Sorting is!" Another of the students, a pompous looking boy with brown hair, interrupted, having overheard.

_Looks like you're the center of attention already. _Archer commented as more students looked towards the only boy wearing a hat. _Why don't you tell them the theory you came up with?_

Harry sighed and lifted up a finger in a lecturing pose. "The four Houses are sorted based on certain qualities the Founders preferred, courage for Gryffindor, a love of knowledge for Ravenclaw, hard work and loyalty for Hufflepuff, and finally, cunning and ambition for Slytherin. All of the abovementioned aren't things that can be easily demonstrated, therefore the Sorting is something that looks into our mind or soul to find those qualities, and sorts us accordingly." As he spoke, more students listened in, until he was the only one making any sound.

The students thought about it, and most of them seemed to find his explanation acceptable. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that the Malfoy boy was approaching, clearly curious as to who he was.

Suddenly, someone behind him screamed, and Harry whirled around with his wand in hand, Reinforcing the wood in preparation to use it as a stabbing tool. What he saw instead was a number of ghosts floating through the wall, talking to each other with hardly any attention spent on the students. Harry had read about them, but to actually see them with his own eyes was something else entirely, and Archer was only slightly less amazed. He was almost tempted to analyze them, but held back only because of Archer's warning earlier.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-" A portly ghost was saying.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost-" The ghost in a ruff and tights stopped speaking when he noticed the living people in the room, "I say, what are you all doing here?"

Nobody answered at first, until Harry's breathing training took over and he calmed down enough to answer. "New students."

"Ah!" The portly ghost smiled. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" Seeing some of them, Harry included, nod, the Friar continued, "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old House, you know."

"Move along now," Professor McGonagall's voice cut in sharply, making Harry twitch again (He seemed to be getting surprised a lot lately), "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Mr Potter, put away your wand."

_So much for waiting until the Sorting. _Harry groused as he tucked the wand back into his holster, all too aware of the changes in the looks the rest of the students were giving him. _At least her presence keeps me from getting badgered. _

_Badger, badger, badger... Maybe you should go into Hufflepuff, they'll keep you from getting badgered. _Archer suggested while Harry followed the rest of the students as they formed a line under the professor's instructions and followed her out of the chamber and towards the set of doors Harry heard the earlier rumbling from.

Harry groaned out loud at Archer's pun, drawing a few odd glances. _Did you _HAVE _to do that? Just how _BORED _are you?_

_Actually, I was thinking up possible counterarguments for whatever spiel that Malfoy kid was planning to give you. But seeing as I didn't get my chance... _Archer trailed off expectantly. _Well, if I'm reading him right, he will seek you out eventually, and _THEN _I'll get my chance._

_At least you have something to look forward to. Now be quiet, please. I want to see what they- woah._ Harry was awed at the size of the Great Hall.

Much bigger than the Entrance Hall, the first thing that caught anyone's attention was the sight of the night sky where the ceiling was, complete with sparkling stars (Ahead of him, Hermione whispered about how it was bewitched to look that way, clearly ). The light came from the multitudes of candles floating in midair over the four long tables where the rest of the students sat, looking pale in the flickering light, with the tables themselves laid with shiny golden plates and goblets, clearly representing the four Houses of Hogwarts. On the opposite end of the hall stood another long table atop a short dais, placed perpendicularly to the students' tables, where the teachers sat. Harry peeked out from under the brim of his hat, feeling the stares of both students and teachers as Professor McGonagall led him up to the base of the dais, and turned to face the crowd of students along with the rest of the first-years, still keeping his eyes down.

Professor McGonagall's feet passed across his vision, and a four-legged stool was placed on the floor in front of the first-years, with a ragged and patched pointed wizard's hat on top of it. As Harry watched, the hat twitched, then a part near the brim opened like a mouth, and to Harry's jaw-dropping shock, the hat began to SING.

(No, I'm not going to put the song here. Harry finds the song foolish, and so do I.)

The hat finished its song to applause from the hall, Harry excluded, and bowed to each of the four tables in turn before becoming still once more.

Despite his feelings towards a singing hat, Harry felt a little satisfied to be proven right about his theory, and he caught Hermione smiling at him from his right. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and stepped forward with a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted." She said, and began reading out names, beginning with 'Abbott, Hannah!'.

As Harry looked on, watching as the members of each House applauded with each new addition to their ranks, he memorized faces and took note of how the hat's decision time varied, with Hermione taking only a few moments compared to Neville's few minutes, despite both going into Gryffindor. He snorted a little when Neville went off with the hat still on his head while the rest of the students laughed, but personally thought it must have been a big blow to Neville's already small confidence. Most of the time, the Sorting put the Purebloods he knew into the Houses their families tended to, such as Susan Bones and Ernie Macmilan going into Hufflepuff while Draco (_Odd name_, Harry thought to himself) Malfoy went into Slytherin with his hanger-ons Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Apparently family upbringing played a great deal in their Sorting, since it couldn't be family loyalty as that would land those who were non-Hufflepuffs into Hufflepuff.

Then it was his turn.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry stalked forward, his temper rising as he heard the whispers breaking out over the place with the announcement of his name.

_Calm down, Harry. _Archer's usual warning came, and Harry forced his breathing under control. _Good. I don't know how much this Sorting will see, but I'll try to hide just in case. _Harry felt Archer's presence in his mind dwindle until he could barely sense the spirit.

"Take that hat off, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall told him just as he did.

He gave her a look that said 'Obviously!', before picking up on the hat and sitting down on the stool. Harry looked around at the curious students, giving each of the tables a small smile before putting the hat on and letting it fall over his eyes, cutting out both sound and light.

"Hmm," A small voice spoke in his right ear, where the 'mouth' was, "Difficult, VERY difficult. Plenty of courage deep inside you, I see. A brilliant mind as well. Oh my, a strong determination to work hard, and... my goodness, you're talented in cunning with a strong thirst to excel. So where shall I put- Who is Archer?" The voice suddenly asked.

Harry froze. _Archer?_

"Odd, I can see your memories of your conversations with him, yet I detect no reply. It doesn't seem to be the mark of insanity- wait, what's this magic? I've never-"

_STOP. Don't go any further!_ Harry didn't know how to keep the hat from looking through his mind any further and finding out about his magecraft, but he took the image of one of Archer's swords and duplicated it repeatedly to create a wall of swords across his mind.

"Ow!" The hat gasped, out loud, if the volume was any indication. "There's no need for that, you know. I am beheld to keep all that I see in a student's mind secret, and Sort them only."

_Fine. But Archer is MY secret. Just sort me._

"Okay, okay..." The voice grumbled. "You, Mr Potter, are a truly difficult one to Sort, if you must know. You have a great thirst for knowledge, to learn magic, and are willing to work hard for it no matter what. However, both qualities come about due to your ambition to become a hero, for which you have the necessary courage, and cunning enough to overcome whatever trials you may face. Frankly, you would be perfect in any House," the voice dropped into a mutter, "Though slightly unsuited to Hufflepuff if not for your loyalty to this Archer character..."

_Did you psychoanalyze Neville as well? _Harry wanted to know.

"I am beheld to keep all that I see in a student's mind secret." The hat repeated. "I was going to ask you whether you have any desires, but I think I have come to a decision... better be-!"

* * *

In my memory of the first book, the best place for a different Harry fanfiction to have a cliffhanger would be none other than the moment of Sorting. It is a Slytherin-ish tactic to keep people interested and wanting more, definitely.

Now, according to **Ihklan The Unpronounceable**, and confirmed through Fate Wikia, Archer's skin and hair tone came from his long-term use of Tracing. Thus I explain the change in Harry's skin and hair tone by the reasoning that it's _Archer's _magic circuits in his body. Is it the act of Tracing or the presence of magic circuits that should be responsible? That is a question that can only be answered by fan speculation, and I have picked the latter.

Speaking on that matter, the reconciliation between Nasuverse magecraft and HP-verse magic is something that I WILL NOT address at this point of time. I may have an explanation right now, but if I had to explain things right now, it would certainly mess up the story, wouldn't it? To my readers, go ahead and speculate, maybe I'll take some of your ideas to fix whatever's wrong with the explanation I'm already hinting at, but I repeat once more, the answer won't come at this point of time.

Next, let's discuss Harry once more. Archer has been a bit of a bad influence with his cynical and slightly childish personality, which led Harry to be slightly sarcastic as well. He clearly has a desire to follow Archer's footsteps by becoming a hero, yet he dislikes the attention he's already receiving, for reasons that I'm not going to put just yet (is it because he lost his parents, or does he feel he doesn't deserve it, or does he just dislikes attention? Speculate away!). So we can classify his heroic aspirations as Gryffindor and Slytherin, the latter showing in his cunning plans. Harry's Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff characteristics are also clear; he desires to learn magic, mainly so he can understand the difference between it and magecraft, and he's not afraid to put in the required effort, as he's clearly used to the inherent pain of magecraft. That's all I have to say.

Please read and review! I'm glad I get so many people marking this story down as something to follow!


	5. Third Spell

"**GRYFFINDOR!**" The hat shouted out to the hall.

The silence imposed by the hat vanished with that declaration, and Harry was made aware of the applause he was receiving. Removing the hat, he placed it back on the stool and turned to face the hall. The Weasley twins were yelling how they got Potter, while most of their House were giving him a standing ovation. Despite the noise, he could tell that the Slytherin House wasn't really participating, so he decided to start with the plan he made with Archer, and nodded to each House table, beginning with Slytherin and ending with Gryffindor.

The applause decreased to less than half its original volume nearly instantly.

Smirking inwardly as he retrieved his own hat, Harry strode over to join his new House and sat himself between Hermione and Neville, the former beaming at him but looking slightly confused over the sudden cooling in reception, while the latter just stared at him bewilderedly. An older-looking redhead with a Prefect's badge on his uniform (This must be the last Weasely, Harry realized) reached around Hermione and shook his hand without waiting for him to accept the handshake, and Harry barely managed to resist jerking his hand away. Opposite him, the ghost in ruff and tights from the waiting chamber nodded at him with a smile, which Harry returned. Up on the dais, which was now directly in his field of vision, Dumbledore was beaming proudly in his golden chair while Professor McGonagall gave him a small smile of her own, though a sallow-faced man with long greasy hair stared rather unpleasantly at him. Harry just gave him a meaningless blink and looked away, deciding to ask his seniors later.

Archer's presence in his mind returned. _What happened during the Sorting?_

_It could see my thoughts of you, but somehow it couldn't see anything that concerned you directly._

_Odd, _Archer commented, _This just adds more questions to my existence in your body..._

_Too bad I can't give you homework to search for answers. _Harry complained mulishly, picking up the empty plate in front of him to confirm that it was really gold.

Of the four remaining students to be Sorted, Dean Thomas, a black boy, followed Harry into Gryffindor with Ronald Weasley coming after him, while Lisa Turpin, a blonde which Harry had a feeling was a Pureblood, went into Ravenclaw, leaving the other black boy, Blaise Zabini, to join the Slytherins. With all the first-years sorted, Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the hat away, while Dumbledore got to his feet and spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" The old wizard then sat down to the applause and laughter of the hall.

_Mad, _Harry and Archer agreed simultaneously.

Harry's nose suddenly itched, and he barely managed to hold in a sneeze, when food suddenly appeared on the plates in front of him in high piles. Unable to resist, Harry activated his magic circuits and analyzed the plate of roast chicken in front of him. It was just that: roast chicken, though it seemed like some unknown form of magic had been used to transport it in from some unknown location, judging by the odd prana signature it wore.

"Aren't you going to eat, Harry?" Hermione asked from beside him.

"...just amazed, that's all."

Seeing no other alternative, he proceeded to fill his plate, and subsequently, his stomach. The goblets were filled with pumpkin juice, which Harry didn't really like, but luckily there were pitchers of water as well, and some of the older students were happy to switch with him. Given what Harry knew about potions, he was relieved to find that none of the food contained any unwanted additives, now that he was able to check with his magecraft clearly being undetected. And he confirmed that the utensils used were as pure gold as the Galleons in his money pouch, and similarly enchanted.

As the students dug into their food with gusto, Harry took the chance to survey the hall and its inhabitants. There were ghosts present, but only four of them were seated at the tables, which he guessed were the House ghosts. Quite a few students were staring in his direction, and they could see him clearly since his white hair was out in the open (it's proper manners not to wear a hat while at a meal), some of those sitting facing away from him going so far as to twist around to catch a glimpse. Near him, one of the other first-year boys asked the ghost, a four-hundred year old spirit by the name of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, about his unfortunate nickname of Nearly Headless NIck, and got treated to the sight of a head attached by a small bit of sinew and skin at the side of the neck.

Harry winced along with the rest. _Ouch... I don't want to imagine what it would take to leave him in a state like that when he died... or how he might have felt as it happened._

Archer kept silent, but his curiosity about the ghost was clear to Harry.

_Of course his ghosts are different from mine... _Harry snorted softly.

The boy who had asked the insensitive question was Seamus Finnigan, a sandy-haired Irish lad, and Harry began double-checking his memory of the people present; after Neville and Seamus, there were Dean Thomas, who was definitely of non-magical descent, and Ronald Weasley, who seemed awed to be in the same House as Harry. As for the girls, besides Hermione, there were Parvati Patil, a girl of Indian ancestry whose twin sister was in Ravenclaw, blond Pureblood Lavender Brown, who kept blushing and giggling whenever Harry looked her way, Fay Dunbar, who had a straightforward personality that matched Hermione when the bookworm was in a bookstore, and a pigtailed girl whose name Harry missed when the food vanished from the plates only to be replaced by dessert, all of which seemed extremely sweet and potentially unhealthy to Harry. Still, he decided to spoil himself just this once, and helped himself to a treacle tart while listening to the other students talk about their families.

Seamus turned out to be a Halfblood and his divulging of his father's shock over his wife's secret was met with laughter, while Dean confirmed Harry's suspicion of his background. Neville revealed his relatives' treatment of him, which the rest ignored, though Harry noted that Dean appeared to find it weird when no one had anything to say about such child abuse, and when they made eye contact, Harry shrugged. Lavender and Parvati were both Purebloods, and the other two girls were Halfbloods, leaving Hermione as the only Muggle- _Non-magical descended_, Harry corrected himself. Remembering his friend, he glanced in her direction to find her talking to the redheaded Prefect who shook his hand, Percy, about classes, which he made sure to listen in on, but found to his dismay that there wasn't much information to be had from the redhead.

Once he finished his tart, Harry proceeded to question the ghost on Hogwarts' four Houses, he found out about Ravenclaw's Grey Lady, Hufflepuff's Fat Friar, and Slytherin's Bloody Baron, who happened to be sitting next to a revolted-looking Draco Malfoy. He barely cared about the fact that Slytherin won the House Cup for the past six years, being more interested in knowing about what he was going to face at Hogwarts. He took note of the rest of the first-years... carefully identifying three girls in each of the other Houses who kept glancing towards him more than the others in their year: Susan Bones from Hufflepuff, Su Li (_It's supposed to be the other way around, _Archer told him) from Ravenclaw, and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin; all three of them wore looks of thoughtful studying (the last one concealed it very well), which Harry figured to mean that they recognized him and remembered the bluff he pulled on the train. He decided to approach them separately to find out how they were like.

At the teachers' table, Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore, as Hagrid, whom Harry wasn't expecting to see present, gulped from his goblet. He asked Sir Nicholas about the rest; Professors Burbage, Babbling, Vector, Kettleburn and Trelawney, he ignored for now since he wouldn't take their classes until third year, which left the diminutive Professor Flitwick, the turban-wearing Professor Quirrell, vine-hat-wearing Professor Sprout, and the man with the greasy hair, Professor Snape.

_I have to ask him about my mother... _Harry decided as he snuck the occasional glance at the man, who kept glaring in his direction as though trying to catch Harry peeking at him. _Why is he acting so angry?_

_It appears to be directed at you... _Archer frowned from inside Harry. _Harry, something's not right._

_What's wrong? _Harry asked, concerned.

_For a moment, I detected a flash of prana from someone in this hall... it was directed at us._

_I didn't feel anything. Do you know what it did?_

_It's slightly different here, _Archer answered grimly, _but I can at least tell that it had something to do with the mind._

Harry wasn't sure what to think about this new revelation, but one thing was clear: there was a possible threat to him in this place.

He overheard Percy answer Dean when the boy asked the same question Harry asked about Professor Snape. "Everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts despite teaching Potions, Snape."

Privately, Harry didn't believe it. There was something else going on as well, that was for sure.

The desserts soon went the way of the main course, leaving the plates empty and perfectly clean once more. Dumbledore got to his feet, and the hall went silent.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." He continued, "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch." Dumbledore paused. "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed at the last part, but Harry was derisive. _Hey Archer, remember a few years back, when you told me not to Reinforce the spanner too much?_

_How could I forget? You did it anyway. _Archer replied dryly. _Broke it to pieces._

Harry would never forget how Archer sounded as the spirit scolded him without sounding angry at all. _And what do you think the students will do now that they know that the third-floor corridor is 'out of bounds'?_

The spirit's silence was all the answer Harry needed. Dumbledore was obviously up to something here, especially considering what he overheard Percy muttering about the old wizard usually providing a good reason for his warnings. Why was the reason omitted this time?

"And now, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried out, flicking his wand to send a golden ribbon out of the tip, forming words in the air.

Harry's forehead made a loud thunk on the table when he read the lyrics, and he stuck his fingers into his ears as the rest of the school began singing horribly off-key to them. Only when most of the noise was gone, did he pull out his fingers. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see that the last singers were the Weasley twins, who were singing as though the song was a funeral march. Dumbledore dismissed them, and Harry pulled on his hat before following Percy out of the Great Hall with the rest of the first-years.

"Harry, why didn't you sing the school song?" Hermione asked, apparently taking offense that he hadn't done so.

"...it's a matter of personal pride for me." Harry swiftly came up with an excuse.

They went up a marble staircase, passed through a series of corridors, going through hidden passageways behind sliding panels and tapestries, and climbed even more staircases. Throughout it all, Harry kept a close eye on the path taken, as well as how the portraits they passed by pointed and whispered. He was interested to find out just how the people depicted within were able to move and talk, even to the point of going into neighboring pictures.

Suddenly, they came to a stop, and Harry narrowed his eyes at the sight of a bundle of walking sticks floating in the air ahead. He charged his eyes with prana, and an evil-looking little man appeared to his vision, the walking sticks in his arms as he floated cross-legged above the ground. Percy explained that the one responsible for the phenomena was Peeves, the currently invisible castle poltergeist, and proceeded to threaten the spirit into showing himself to the rest of the students. However, Peeves didn't flee, but swooped down at the first-years and made them duck before ascending right above their heads. Harry figured they wouldn't be really hurt, but Reinforced his body anyway. The decision came in handy when Peeves dropped the rest of the walking sticks as he fled, and Harry was able to pull Neville out from below them before they hit the boy.

"Thanks, Harry!" Neville said, clearly frightened by the encounter.

"You're welcome."

"You want to watch out for Peeves. The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him. He won't even listen to us prefects." Percy told them as they continued down the corridor. "Here we are."

A portrait of a very fat woman in a pink dress hung on the wall, and she looked down at them. "Password?"

"Caput Draconis." Percy answered confidently, causing the portrait to swing open, revealing a large round hole in the wall that they crawled through. (Harry had to pull Neville up after him)

The Gryffindor common room was round and had a cozy feel to it, with many armchairs littered around the place. Harry analyzed the room and was slightly disappointed to find that there wasn't much else to it. Meanwhile, Percy directed the boys and girls through different doors, and Harry followed the rest of the boys up a spiral staircase to the top, where they discovered their trunks in the center of a room filled with five four-poster beds. Harry immediately analyzed his, and found it normal apart from the same odd prana signature he encountered on the food in the Great Hall.

Harry made brief eye contact with Ron Weasley, who wore a hopeful look. "Say, Neville," He turned to the chubby boy, "Do you need help with your trunk?"

Before Neville could give a proper answer, Harry had grabbed their trunks and moved over to the bed nearest to the door, pushing Neville into choosing the bed next to his. Harry continued to pretend not to notice Ron's disappointed expression, but the redhead soon followed the rest of the boys in yawning as the meal and climb to the tower got to them, and one by one, they turned in to sleep after changing into their pajamas, leaving Harry the only one awake behind the hangings of his bed.

_Archer? _

_I'm waiting for you. _

Sitting upright in his bed, Harry took a meditation pose and started to breathe in a different controlled pattern. He wasn't sure just how he did this, but only knew that he could. The sounds around him faded, and he could feel his spirit seemingly leaving his body... only to enter it once more.

In a world littered with countless blades.

Before him stood the one he knew as Archer, a tall, muscular brown-skinned man in red and black clothes, and white hair that matched his own identically.

"Harry." The man nodded to him.

"Archer."

Ever since he first entered Archer's world, Harry sought to reenter the place in order to at least gaze upon the first hero he had ever known rather than just talk to each other in his head. He had stumbled across the way by accident, when he simply imagined himself standing on that barren plain while practicing putting up bounded fields with his magecraft.

As always, the sight of the place left him with awe; high up in the smoky sky, giant rusted gears turned slowly, unconnected to anything, while on the ground, many bladed weapons stood upside down in the packed earth, continuing on all the way to the horizon. This was a place that only existed in one's imagination, this was Archer's world.

Harry felt honored he had been allowed to enter.

"So you're in Gryffindor." Archer started the conversation.

Harry nodded. "I thought I was going to go into Ravenclaw, actually. But I can handle this too."

Archer inclined his head slightly, closing his eyes as he spoke. "Indeed. Being in the 'House of Light' would be extremely beneficial to your plan."

"Uniting the Houses... do you think it's possible, Archer?"

"I'll just warn you right now, it won't be easy. But I'm not listening to you sulk if you fail." The man smirked.

"Gee, thanks." Harry replied sourly.

Archer had pointed out the difficulties in Harry's aim long before they left for Hogwarts. The Houses were extremely segregated, Slytherin would resist any plans made by a Gryffindor out of principle, elder students would try to stick to the status quo, Harry had to juggle his work as a student with whatever he tried, and so many other possible things that could go wrong. Still, he did have the advantage of being a Gryffindor and the Boy-Who-Lived...

Harry trusted the older man's judgment greatly; Archer had a great deal of experience at identifying factors and including them when he came up with tactics and strategies, and steered Harry right nearly every time, and even his few failures were quickly contained.

"So what do you recommend I do first?"

Archer crossed his arms. "Gather allies around you. Your task isn't something one person can do alone. Get at least one person from each House."

Harry's expression was serious as he considered it. "I think I might have a few names. I should also build up my reputation here, right?"

The man nodded approvingly as the corner of his lips twitched upwards, clearly pleased to see that Harry was able to think for himself.

"I don't think I can be a Mr Fixit here... not unless I can fix whatever enchanted items people bring me. But given what I've seen of this society so far, they're more likely to walk over me instead... Lazy bunch." Harry suddenly snapped his fingers. "Aha! What if I provided ideas that they could accept? Start a movement, something like that? They'll start seeing me as the person they can count on!"

"Worth a try." Archer conceded.

"Got any ideas I can borrow?" The boy asked hopefully.

Archer shook his head. "Nothing that would work at this time. Anything else?"

"I need to learn not just about magic, but about Hogwarts. You saw it yourself, this place has all sorts of hidden passageways. Who's to say that there isn't some special room where we can train in magecraft?"

"Possible. But if all else fails, we'll still set up some bounded fields of our own somewhere."

"Alright, I think that's all I can think of for now. Next is the obstacles." Harry frowned. "Dumbledore. He's the boss of this place, he's connected to the bounded fields for sure. He might notice if we practice our magecraft too openly."

"You're forgetting his familiars." Archer reminded him.

"He has familiars?" Harry was surprised to hear that.

"Technically they aren't his, but the portraits and ghosts aren't ordinary recordings. They have a degree of autonomy of their own, and that means whatever they see can be passed on to others. Why do you think there's a mention of Hogwarts' rumor mill in that thick book about the school?"

"That's going to make things a lot more difficult..."

"And then there are the students." Archer added bluntly. "Besides the fact that they'll talk to their teachers, which means it might get back to Dumbledore, you also have to remember, the older ones won't like it if you disrespect their seniority too much."

"And in every group, there will always be some dissenters." Harry nodded, aware of the presence of outliers. "Should I try to get them on my side?"

"That depends. You need to weigh between effort and reward."

"...what about the teachers?"

"Very good. Get their measure as soon as you can. Remember, you can start by asking about your parents, since most of the teachers here should know them."

Harry wanted to know more about his deceased parents, but that didn't mean he didn't mind using this avenue to learn more about others. Archer once asked Harry how he got so cunning, and Harry had told him that he initially grew up trying to think of ways to avoid the Dursleys' anger. Harry had the feeling that if not for Archer's arrival, he might have eventually come to Hogwarts thinking that hiding was the only way to avoid trouble, instead of the way he was now.

"I'm not asking Dumbledore." Harry said firmly.

"I'm not telling you to. For Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, it should be easy to get on the good side of their Heads of House by displaying the qualities their House looks for."

"Alright, got it. What about Snape?" Harry wasn't sure about that man, but he recognized that the greasy-haired person wasn't one who would give way easily.

"You heard McGonagall, talk to him about your mother first, then go on from there."

"Okay... what about my father? Do you think I should mention him too?"

Archer looked thoughtful. "Your parents were Gryffindors, yet Snape was from Slytherin. Logically, he shouldn't have become friends with your mother, what with the rivalry present."

Harry saw Archer's train of thought and followed it. "But he was... so maybe, pre-Hogwarts? But that means... my father and Snape..." He didn't like where it ended.

"Possibly."

"I'll keep that in mind when I talk to him then. Anything else?"

Archer and Harry's discussion went on for a long time, as they covered and revised various points of what Harry was intending to do at Hogwarts, doing their best to prepare for whatever eventuality fate might throw at them.

* * *

Within minutes of leaving his dormitory, Harry decided that there was no point wearing a hat to hide his white hair. Being the only student around to wear it, he instantly drew attention, and the students used it to identify him straightaway. If anything, it took them slightly longer to find him when he had it off instead, since he could slip near any blond person to use them to mask his hair color. Still, it was rather aggravating to be followed everywhere by whispers, since they distracted him from his analyzing.

When he woke up the first morning, Harry happened to be the first one to be up, since his training as a magus had reduced the time he needed to sleep for a full rest. He immediately started doing a few stationary exercises to keep in shape, before taking a shower and heading down to the common room, where he found Hermione already up and reading through her Charms textbook. She was insistent on waiting for a prefect to lead them, so Harry left her behind and went out through the portrait, trying to retrace the path he took from the Great Hall last night. And he kept using Structural Analysis repeatedly, on the walls, the portraits, the staircases, the tapestries, the statues...

_Two floors down and I already found eleven hidden passageways, three fake doors, two conditionally-locked doors, and a whoooooole load of bounded fields. _Harry thought to himself with amazement as he stared at a portrait of a sleeping wood nymph, wondering how he could get into the room hidden behind it.

He finally reached the Great Hall, where only a single Ravenclaw senior student was sitting at her table. Harry immediately took the opportunity and introduced himself, asking more about the school and for advice the girl could provide. She was extremely pleased to get his attention, and they talked continuously even as the other students started filtering in. When Harry finally left to return to his House table, the girl was mobbed by her Housemates, who were curious about what the Boy-Who-Lived said to her.

After he received his schedule from Professor McGonagall during breakfast, Harry immediately began planning his time at Hogwarts out on a piece of parchment. For first-years, they had quite a lot of free time, nearly one after... (Harry's eyes narrowed as he trailed his finger down the schedule) every class that involved the use of active magic. From what he recalled of the Healing books he 'read', Harry knew that the average young wizard's magical core required periods of recovery... just like a human's muscle, or his magic circuits. What he didn't understand was why there was only one period of Potions, on Friday.

_They only have one teacher for all seven years. If each year gets two hours, then why is there only one class per week? Homework... yeah, Professor Snape has to mark whatever homework he hands out. He's also the Head of House for Slytherin... but surely that can't take that much time._

Archer chose that moment to break in with his own opinion. _There are two more factors you forgot to include._

Harry tried to think of what they could be, but failed to come up with anything. _What?_

_First, he's also a researcher, which means he has his own work to do. And second, _Archer continued, _remember the ingredients in the apothecary?_

Harry's mouth opened in surprise and understanding. _The price and need to replace them after use! I see!_

Closing his mouth, Harry looked at his schedule once more. He only had four classes today, Magical Theory, History of Magic, Charms, and Herbology, in that order with two hours of free time around them. For now, he had two hours until Magical Theory, so Harry had plenty of time to decide what he wanted to do.

"What are you writing, Harry?" Hermione, ever curious, was the first one to ask.

"Just planning what I want to do here."

"You're already planning to _study_?" Seamus exclaimed disbelievingly.

"No, don't be dumb." Harry replied without really thinking, causing the other boy to flush red. "I'm talking about exploring Hogwarts."

The rest of the first year Gryffindors present nodded understandingly; Harry was the first one down, but Hermione, Seamus, Dean and Fay were the only ones present at the moment, each of them having gotten slightly lost trying to come down, even Hermione with a prefect's directions.

_I also have to find the library and start going through what they have there. So much to do..._

_So little time. _Archer completed the thought.

After eating his fill, Harry drifted over to Hufflepuff table, and introduced himself to the first year Hufflepuffs once more, acting his usual courteous self with the manners Archer had instilled in him, and refreshing his memory. They were friendly enough towards him, and Harry made sure to find out about their own schedules, and even went so far as to invite them to explore the castle with him after dinner that night. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones accepted while the others declined for the time being.

That settled, Harry left the Great Hall and started exploring the place, Reinforcing his limbs when the exertion of running around for so long started to wear on his limbs. With his trusty notebook to record anything interesting he found, Harry and his structural grasping discovered many more secret rooms, all of which were hidden behind either paintings or tapestries, and countless more secret passages. The people in the portraits were happy to talk to him when he started the conversation, and they directed him to where he could find more secrets after a bit of persuasion. In addition to the library, he also managed to locate the Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms, taking note to map their locations down. However, he only managed to cover the first few levels of the school in that time while staying away from the third-floor corridor, which still left the upper floors and the dungeons by the time it came for his first class.

Archer's chance to shine soon came, when Draco Malfoy attracted Harry's attention by placing himself in Harry's route as he was making his way towards his first class, Magical Theory, together with Hermione and Neville, ahead of the rest of his Housemates as usual.

"Harry Potter, my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." The pale boy said as he stood in Harry's way with his bodyguards behind him.

Next to Harry, Neville frowned, and Hermione looked like she wanted to say something even as Malfoy looked over the two of them and sniffed as though he found Harry's choice of companions wanting.

"You'll be wanting to make friends with the right sort, Potter, as some wizarding families are much better than others." Malfoy looked directly at Neville as he said this, then stuck out his hand. "I can help you there."

_No mention of Hermione at all... Archer? _

_He's posturing... _Harry could feel Archer's childish glee. _Far from the most arrogant person I've met. May I?_

_Go ahead._ Harry let Archer take the lead in his body. "Pleased to meet you, Malfoy. I'm Potter, Harry Potter." They reached out and shook Malfoy's hand briefly before letting go. "However, I must ask you, why should I accept your offer when you have implied an insult at me not once, but twice?" They asked loftily, the beginnings of a threat.

All the other five children stared at Harry's different personality, his two Housemates shocked at the change Harry had evoked in himself while the Slytherins were unprepared for this response.

"Wh-what?" Malfoy said weakly.

Archer and Harry tilted their head back, giving the impression that they were looking at Malfoy down their nose. "First, you insult my friends, and by extension me for befriending them." They spoke coldly, his tone threatening all sorts of punishments for the offences received, "Then you _imply_ that I lack social skills of my own. So tell me, Malfoy, why should I accept your offer?" (1)

"I-I-I..." The boy stuttered, going even paler, and his bodyguards shifted awkwardly.

"When I _feel_ like I require your services, I will _remember_ to seek you out. Have a good morning, Malfoy." Harry strode past the Slytherins with his friends following, acting every bit the high-ranking noble, with the unspoken promise to visit Hell upon Malfoy should he obstruct Harry's path again.

_How did you act like that? _Harry demanded in his mind as they continued walking.

_I channeled a combination of Gilgamesh's attitude and Barthomeloi Lorelei's character. It's about making it clear that you are higher than them, and they are lower than you. _Archer explained.

While his host thought they were both the same thing, he didn't recognize the names. _Who are those two you mentioned?_

The sense of Archer's good mood vanished. _Just people I met. Not the sort of people you'd ever want to meet._

It took Harry a while to reassure his friends that what he just showed was simply an act, and not in any way his real character. Neville found it particularly funny once Harry explained why he had reacted as such, and so did Hermione to a lesser degree since Harry had retaliated in the same way Malfoy had approached.

Ron Weasley was a lot harder to deter; the redhead seemed to view Harry as the person he had to know no matter what, but what put Harry off was his unreasonable dislike of all things Slytherin, plus the fact that they shared very little common interest, since the redhead only had three main hobbies, eating, Quidditch, and chess, and was naturally lazy. In the end, Harry settled for mostly ignoring the tall boy apart from having the occasional game with him in the common room before turning to his books or escaping to the library, upon which Ron turned to look for someone else to beat instead.

And thus Harry's education at Hogwarts went underway. As Harry had predicted, there was a lot more to magic than simply waving one's wand, holding the intent, and saying the incantation. First he had to learn the typical wand motions, the differences between a swish and a flick, why one shouldn't grip his wand too hard, and the importance of proper pronunciation, all of which Harry picked up easily. Later, when he compared what he learned about magic with what he knew about magecraft, he found that while they were similar in having an effect upon the physical world through the channeling of prana through the magic circuits, the incantations and wand movements for magic were to make up for the inability of an external wand to perform on the same level of caster intent as a magic circuit. From his research in the library, Harry found out that wandless magic was possible, but given the difficulty in pushing prana out from the body without any magic circuits, he came to the conclusion that the accidental magic exhibited by young wizarding children were due to their physical bodies being unable to properly contain the prana within, while true wandless magic was due to either the formation of an actual but incomplete magic circuit, as the wandless caster could hardly perform much else, or the caster's powerful will in controlling the effect his prana had upon the world. None of his theories were conclusive, since Harry was apparently the only person who had magic circuits here.

Professor Flitwick was excitable and actually fell off the stack of books he used to see over his desk when he reached Harry's name on his roll call, but when Harry approached him after class to talk, he found that instead of being another mindless fan, the little wizard had a quick mind befitting the Ravenclaw Head of House, and was happy to discuss and tell Harry about the deeper theory behind wizarding magic, as well as direct him to the books that would be helpful. Harry found that his mother had been brilliant at Charms, and his own personal skill at it endeared him to the teacher as well, which got the small wizard to tell Harry all about Lily Potter's skill in his classes. He left Flitwick's first class with a list of books to scan, plus an invitation to visit the Charms Club. Hermione was extremely put out to find out about it later, having missed the chance, but Harry calmed her down by pointing out that they could go together next time.

History of Magic was a disappointment, as Professor Cuthbert Binns, a ghost, had a soporific voice and recited names and dates in an unchanging pace, putting most of the students to sleep except for Hermione, who took down notes diligently, and Harry, who simply tuned Binns out and read ahead looking for places where the writer's account was highly suspect with Archer's help. With the number of discrepancies he found, it was a far more interesting way to pass the class than trying to listen. He decided that he would try approaching the goblins to see if he could learn their side of the story, and wrote it down in his notebook. When he asked around later, he found that Binns always taught the same thing, and with a bit of gold from his pouch, bought a copy of all seven years' History notes from a Ravenclaw senior so he could get through the exams without any trouble.

With classes three times a week, Herbology was the class they had the most, and Harry got to experience the grounds outside of the castle when he ventured out behind it to the greenhouses where it was held. Professor Sprout, a dumpy little witch who was the Hufflepuff Head of House, taught them how to identify and care for the strange plants and fungi, as well as their abilities and use. Neville's experience with his own family's greenhouses proved to be useful, and with a bit of convincing on Harry's part, the rest of the Gryffindors let the round-faced boy answer the teacher's questions and win their House points, helping Neville achieve some confidence. For his part, Harry managed just fine, and he used the classes to get to know the Hufflepuffs, which shared two of the classes, and Ravenclaws, which shared the last one, more. Personally, he could see the potential use they had, since magical plants played a great part in Potions, and some of them were very expensive. The teacher knew Harry's parents only briefly, but he was sure he impressed her when he told her how he managed the garden's around his neighborhood (even if only once in a while), talking about working out in the sun (he was actually fixing one of his neighbor's cars), earning her approval to mingle with her badgers.

Professor McGonagall's class was as strict as its teacher; the stern witch started them off with a warning about the dangers, followed by an impressive demonstration where she turned her desk into a pig and back again, then ended with a lengthy lecture about the theory behind the subject. This branch of magic dealt with the more physical aspects of the art compared to Charms, dealing with an object's form and appearance. Harry's structural grasping proved its worth once more, as when McGonagall put them to turning matchsticks to needles, he analyzed both states and held them in his mind while he made the change with a precise wave of his wand and a muttered incantation, earning himself a smile and five points from the spectacled witch and a glare from his female friend, who only managed to make hers silver and pointy by the end of the class. Compared to magecraft, Transfiguration functioned under the theory that while any change made was not permanent, it was only due to the caster's power, instead of the magecraft theory of Gaia working against the existence of a phantasm. Certainly, when Harry analyzed his own needle, he discovered that it had truly been converted from wood to metal, but its personal history showed it to have seemingly come into existence just moments ago, with no trace of its original form. Similarly, when he scanned the matchstick after converting it back, he found that he could read the history of many people apparently erasing it from existence multiple times and bringing it back. Apparently, Transfiguration dealt not with the conversion of existence, but the trade of one for another newer one; accidents that resulted in the partial transfiguration of an object was due to the exchanged objects overlapping in the space they both occupied, giving rise to something that had partial aspects of both. Later, when he approached McGonagall, this time with Hermione, he got another discussion on Transfiguration theory, a matching list of books, and information about his father, who had been something of a prodigy at Transfiguration himself, though he chose to be quite the troublemaker with his talents instead.

The mention of his parents' fields of expertise niggled at Harry, until he remembered what Ollivander had said about their wands. Could a person's wand had something to do with the magic they were good at? Certainly, Archer's magic circuits in his body were extremely attuned to Material Transmutation magecraft, a field that dealt with the properties of an object, and very little else. If so, then Potions was... Harry suddenly recalled what Percy said about Snape being knowledgeable about the Dark Arts. However, he had to wait until Friday to confront the man alone, despite encountering his intense stare every time they were both present in the Great Hall for meals.

Astronomy had some potential since the movement of the celestial bodies had an influence on certain spells, rituals and potions, but for now, knowing about the constellations didn't really have much appeal to Harry, and he made only the minimal effort to learn, choosing to master himself over striving for the stars. The subject was taught by dark-skinned Aurora Sinestra, whom Harry hadn't seen during the Opening Feast, and was held on Wednesdays midnights, a time which left every other first-year apart from Harry drowsy the next day, giving him the opportunity to explore the castle further alone. His modern telescope wasn't warmly received by the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, as most of them were under the impression that their enchanted brass telescopes were better. However, Harry managed to figure out how to transfer the enchantments from the one he bought over to his new one, thus making it perform far better than theirs would. After all, his knowledge of Reinforcement had taught him that having a good base foundation would maximize the effects. Hermione seemed rather put out when he pointed out that the Hogwarts letter did not state that he had to get the same telescope as everyone else, and she began acting stiffly towards him, an attitude that had been developing ever since he showed himself to excel at where actual magic was involved.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts was something that every student looked forward to, attracted by the adventure the name implied, but Quirrell's teaching was extremely bad; the man stuttered greatly, making it hard for any of them to decipher what he was telling them, and the strong smell of garlic hanging around the room didn't help their concentration either. Archer was particularly interested to hear about the vampire the man met in Romania, as well as the zombie that he apparently defeated to receive his turban, but when Seamus asked about it, the teacher started talking about the weather instead. Still, Harry and Archer noticed something off about the man; his stutter was clearly fake, since he did it through his lips rather exaggeratedly, and the smell of garlic that hung around his turban masked any other smells the man could have had, which Archer pointed out as a possible reason to hide something. With two suspicious factors about the man, but nothing to base his behavior on, they decided to let the man go for now, especially since he hadn't acted threateningly towards Harry yet.

The Hogwarts library itself was a place that fascinated Harry with its lure of knowledge waiting to be discovered, both the academic and the social (there was a store for back issues of the Daily Prophet, the British Wizarding World's largest newspaper). He made an extra effort to get to know the librarian, Madam Pince, and get on her good side, thus getting himself a tour of the place and increasing his reputation among the Ravenclaws when he could lead them to the section they wanted. For his part, Harry armed himself with a brand new notebook to write down things he wanted to remember later, and began scanning through the stacks, taking about half an hour to complete one whole shelf while pretending he took that long to just browse through the titles, something the Ravenclaws took to mean that he was very choosy about his reading material. The near-continuous analyzing was causing his skill with the spell to reach new heights, and Harry grew able to perceive the age and history of the objects in greater detail, to the point where he could identify the last four persons to touch the book he was analyzing if he met them, in addition to taking only four scans to complete a thousand-page book. It left him with a bit of a headache to go with his hot circuits, but Harry just ignored the pain and soldiered on, filling four pages with school rules he felt could affect him, as a precaution to protecting himself. Harry aimed to eventually enter the Restricted Section and find out what they had as well, if not for the alarm bounded field linked to the librarian.

Hogwarts was truly an amazing place; despite being a castle, the high level of prana saturation from all the spells cast within had produced certain remarkable effects when combined with the presence of two intersecting ley lines below the structure, the most noticeable being the ability of things to move and be things that they weren't, like some of the hundred and forty-two staircases and the walls-turned-doors. Harry wondered if he would ever be able to recall where everything was, or if he would figure out how the bounded fields interacted with each other. He already had a small theory that whatever moved would only do so within a certain area, so if a classroom wasn't where it was previously, there was a likely chance that it was somewhere close by; he just had to confirm it a few more times. The interaction also created certain dimensional portals; Harry was very sure that it was physically impossible to simply cross over from one end of the school to another in only two minutes with the use of certain hidden passages when the usual trip through the public corridors took a full twenty minutes. His ability to navigate the labyrinth that was Hogwarts made him very popular with the rest of the first year students on the exploration expeditions he arranged, and they soon started following him to and from the classes. He then came up with his first idea on Wednesday: drawing basic maps which he sold for a Knut each, and nearly everyone bought one (Following through with Archer's trick, he gave copies of his map to Draco and his bodyguards for free, with the impression that he was doing them a favor and expecting their gratitude for it, confusing the other boy even further). Still, he was far from familiar with the whole place, with only a few of the upper levels and the dungeons still left unexplored.

Still, his explorations had secured him a secret room behind a picture that had a snake peeking out from behind a rock on it, after Harry spent fifteen minutes persuading the man in the picture to allow him to use that empty, dusty room, and ensured that the snake would help guard it from anyone other than him with a password only in Parseltongue when the man left to talk to another portrait. Harry still kept his language ability secret, but this way, no one would enter his new workshop without being a Parselmouth, a secret that only he and the picture snake knew (Harry wasn't sure what to think about being able to talk to a snake in a picture). He set up a few layers (_better safe than sorry_, Harry decided) of bounded fields using runes he learned from Archer and his blood to prevent his magecraft from being detected, and used that place to practice his magecraft, particularly his Reinforcement and Alteration, and stored some of his magecraft-magic research notebooks in that place, under more bounded fields. Recently, with the advances in his grasping, Harry made a breakthrough in Reinforcing himself, as he became aware of how there more gaps to fill with prana besides the joints: the microscopic spaces between his tissues. Archer explained a few concepts of human biology to him, but he didn't quite understand it, and decided to wait until his foster parents managed to gather the necessary materials.

Then there were the non-student inhabitants. The caretaker Filch and his pet cat, Mrs Norris, lived to catch any rulebreakers, and where one was, the other was sure to be close behind. Harry didn't really hate the grumpy old man, but he kept out of the guy's way so he never had any chance to get into trouble with the caretaker. Peeves was a different matter; when the spirit discovered that Harry had a sense for avoiding him on the third day, Peeves started to focus on Harry. That had gone on for a day before Harry found out a weakness of Peeves': the poltergeist could become immaterial, but when he was carrying out his pranks or wasn't paying attention, Peeves was very, very much solid, and capable of feeling pain. Harry promptly lured the spirit to the underground harbor, and threatened Peeves with 'bodily' harm if he didn't stop. Peeves didn't believe it at first, but soon changed his mind when Harry threw a Reinforced silver knife from his potions kit through the poltergeist's head, and proceeded to do so a few more times with his pencils (using a distraction created by one of the Weasley twins' pranks), even when Peeves turned invisible to hide. The sudden change in Peeves' behavior didn't go unnoticed, and Harry's reputation increased further as someone not to cross. (2)

With his efforts to network, Harry eventually built up a group consisting of members from all four Houses, with a total of eight regular members that included Harry, Hermione, Neville, Susan, Hannah, Justin, Lisa Turpin, Su Li, and Padma Patil, and recently managed to invite Daphne Greengrass and her friend Tracey Davis to join them when they explored the first and second floors on Thursday night. Harry still hadn't found out why the three girls he had noticed during the Opening Feast were interested in him, but he stuck to his normal behavior of a curious boy in a new setting, and just asked normal questions about them and their families. Susan was from an Old Family, one of the two remaining members who bore the Bones surname, with the other being her Aunt Amelia, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Su, a small British-born Halfblood whose parents migrated from China to Britain, was similar to Harry in encountering magic for the first time, but she had a clever and inquisitive mind that was characteristic of Ravenclaws, and often gave Hermione a good discussion, which the bushy-haired girl sorely needed whenever she was in a mood over Harry's performance in class. Daphne, being a new addition, was the one he knew things about the least, but with Archer's help, he deduced that in addition to being a Pureblood of a prominent family with strong ties to trading (which he picked up through research), she had the two qualities that Slytherin House looked for in a good way, as well as an upbringing that placed a lot of emphasis on etiquette, which Harry was sure he needed in future if he was to see his plan succeed. Archer was predicting that some of the older students would notice soon, and Harry would have to act to prevent them from breaking up his group. For his part, Harry was extremely determined not to fail, which meant that he wasn't going to let his group dissolve just because some people born a few years before him didn't like it.

Friday finally came, and Harry went down to the Great Hall followed by Neville and Hermione for breakfast. The girl still acted as though he had offended her, and Harry wasn't sure if he had done something wrong to her instead of just doing better than her at practical classes.

"Oh no... we have Double Potions today..." Neville moaned as he looked at his schedule.

Harry shook his head. _Really, Neville, you've got to stop believing in those rumors. Especially when they come from the Weasley twins. _"Calm down, Neville. Just go through with the subject Hermione right now, and you'll be fine. Snape can't be that bad."

Archer suddenly went, _Dun dun DUUUN... _which Harry ignored.

"But..."

"Hermione." Harry looked to his friend for help.

The girl sniffed at Harry, but opened her Potions book and started telling the blond boy about what she thought might come up.

_I really need to talk to that girl... and see about training Neville up a little. It's almost painful to see him stumble around sometimes._

_Have you noticed anything about Hermione lately, Harry?_

_Mmm... you mean like how she's been treating me coldly nearly all this time?_

_Of course you would notice that. _Archer answered back sarcastically. _No, I mean, you might have noticed how she acts towards you, but how about how she acts towards others? _He waited for Harry to think, before continuing, _You might have toned it down a little, but anyone can see that she's very eager to please the teachers, and while she doesn't preach knowledge to you, she does to everyone else. And they don't like it._

Harry groaned mentally. _I remember now. She didn't have many friends before... and it's continuing even now. I thought it was her love of books, but maybe it was her character after all._

_You can't tell for sure, Harry. _

_Okay. So what should I do?_

_If you're unsure, you could write to her parents and ask. They are the ones who grew up with her, remember? _

_Good idea, _Harry thought gratefully. _Oh look, here comes Ilya now. And she's carrying a note?_

Every morning at Hogwarts, a large number of owls would fly into the Great Hall, delivering mail and packages to the students, though none went to any of the staff, which probably meant their mail went to their offices directly. Harry had come across the mention of wards that affected owl mail in one of the books he scanned after taking a break from working on McGonagall's homework last night in the library, and finally realized just why, for a famous person, he hadn't been receiving any fan mail. Personally, he didn't miss it at all, so he just left it on his person. As for Ilya, the snowy owl had brought his letters to his foster parents and their replies back once already, but apart from that, she just flew in to greet him with a nibble on his ear and some of his toast or bacon, before leaving to return to the Owlery, where he visited her sometimes. The bird landed down on the table and dropped an untidily folded note in front of Harry, which he opened up.

Inside was a similarly untidy scrawl: **Dear Harry, I know you have Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us back an answer with Ilya. Hagrid.**

_How does that man know my schedule? _Harry wondered, but pulled out one of his quills and wrote a 'See you then' on the back before letting Ilya take the note away.

_Either he found out himself, or someone told him, that's how._

_If it's the latter, it's a question of WHO told him... still, I think it might be a good idea to learn more about the grounds for once. For a Forbidden Forest, I'm rather surprised that there isn't a fence separating it from Hogwarts._

Neville accepted his invitation to go along while Hermione insisted on completing McGonagall's homework, and of his group, only Su Li was willing to come, while the members of the remaining two houses didn't share the Gryffindors' free slot. In the meantime, Harry had a class to get to.

By the end of Harry's first Potions class in a chilly dungeon where creepy specimens floated in jars on the shelves along the walls, he was pretty sure that Snape disliked him, though the reason for it was unclear. It began when the man was taking roll call, and he had paused on Harry's name like Flitwick had - except with a different reaction.

"Ah, yes." The man said softly but audibly, "Harry Potter. Our new..." Another pause. "_Celebrity_."

_Wow, this guy is so much better at showing attitude than Malfoy was. _Harry glanced at the boy, who immediately stopped sniggering and paled when he noticed Harry's penetrating look.

Snape's cold black eyes scanned the length of the class, and his mouth quirked unpleasantly when he noted Harry sitting next to Daphne, an action Harry persuaded her into when they were talking together last night. Harry didn't need Archer to tell that the seating arrangement didn't please the man, but he kept his features schooled like Daphne and waited for Snape to continue.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Snape started in a whisper, but in the silence of the place, none of the students missed anything - not that they dared to, since Snape and McGonagall had the imposing aura that threatened all students into paying attention when they spoke. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

_Did you notice? _Archer suddenly asked.

_No, what? _Harry kept any reaction from showing, his senses told him that this man was definitely more dangerous than McGonagall was, and didn't dare to let his attention waver.

_He mentioned the word 'science', which means this has quite a large base on research, which is up your alley. Following the recipe might give you a potion, but I think you might need to modify it in order to truly excel. Anyone can follow a blueprint, but altering it to suit your needs might prove better._

"Potter!" Snape suddenly snapped, making Harry jump a little. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Powdered... asphodel... infusion... wormwood... _Harry noticed Hermione had already raised her hand, eager to answer like in all her previous classes.

"Well?" Snape demanded, looking very unpleasantly at him.

_Okay, I think I know. Just have to explain it right. _"Adding a powdered ingredient to an infusion of another ingredient often leads to the... addition of their respective effects together. So if both ingredients have a sedative effect, like asphodel and wormwood, the result- _general_ result ," Harry added, knowing that just two ingredients did not a potion make, "Would be a... very powerful sleep potion. Sir."

Snape seemed shocked to hear the answer, but he recovered quickly. "Then where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar, Potter?" The man spat the name as though it was sour in his mouth.

Harry refrained from raising an eyebrow. _He's attacking me, isn't he? _"I would immediately take one out from my potions kit, as they are there as a part of a standard emergency solution to most poisonings. Barring that, I expect that this Potions classroom should have a stock of its own. However, I cannot remember where they come from. Sir."

A brief flash of glee appeared on Snape's face. "Clearly, fame isn't everything, Potter."

_What does my fame have anything to do with this? _Harry just kept silent, waiting for the next attack as his anger mounted.

"What's the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry dropped his head in a pose of thought. _Archer, I think that this guy is what you call an M, seeing how he likes saying my surname so much despite spitting it out like it's something disgusting. _He smirked slightly at Archer's amusement, then looked up.

The rest of the class were looking at him, and Hermione was glaring even as she waved her hand desperately trying to be the one to answer. As for Neville... he was mouthing something that Harry caught instantly.

"They are the same, sir." He answered evenly, trying not to show any of the anger he was feeling at being singled out.

Snape grimaced. "Put your hand down!" He shot at Hermione, who immediately recoiled. "For your information, Potter, the name of the sleeping potion, which you probably guessed," Snape sneered, "Is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar, which I'm _glad_ you remember the effects of, but couldn't be bothered to learn the origin, is found in the stomach of a ruminant animal, most commonly a goat. And monkshood and wolfsbane, both are the same plant, but they also go by the name of aconite." His eyes flashed across the rest of the class. "Well? Why aren't you writing all that down?"

The students immediately scrambled for their quills and parchment, except for Harry who laid his quill down after recording what Snape had told him even as the man spoke. Green eyes met black, and this time, Harry felt a push of prana. He instantly dropped his eyes, resisting the urge to immediately rush over and beat the guy down.

"Since your answer was barely _acceptable_, I won't be taking any points off this time, Potter." He heard Snape say.

_You're doing a good job of keeping your cool, _Archer encouraged, _Keep it up. And that guy... his prana wasn't the one I felt before, but it's the same brand of mind magic._

_More than one threat, then. He never mentioned that I was right on the last question, did you notice?_

Snape then put them into pairs to make a boil-curing potion, breaking up Daphne and Harry, and putting him with Seamus instead. Fighting down his anger, Harry got to work preparing the ingredients, weighing out dried nettles, crushing the snake fangs, and stewing the horned slugs, all the while ignoring Snape as he criticized nearly everyone while complimenting Malfoy's technique. Harry decided to retaliate in his own way, and he made sure to prepare all his ingredients carefully so that their effects were maximized, ignoring Seamus's protests that they were good enough.

However, his hisses were overheard. "So you think your substandard ingredients can make a worthy potion? Tut tut, Mr Finnigan, perhaps a point from Gryffindor will teach you otherwise."

Seamus gaped in anger as Snape swept away, but Harry patted the other boy's leg and shook his head warningly. He double-checked the instructions for the next step, and added the completely powdered snake fangs after filling them with a brief jolt of prana to enhance their existence. Harry knew that doing so wouldn't affect the potion adversely after testing it out back at home, since prana took on the affinity of whatever it was added to, and as long as he didn't Alter the ingredients, it would only act to increase their essence.

There was a brief scuffle over at the bench where Hermione and Neville were working, and it looked to Harry as though the girl saved the boy from making a potentially disastrous mistake. Shaking his head, Harry continued on with the step they just did, taking the cauldron off the fire and letting it cool slightly, before dropping the shaved and similarly-Reinforced porcupine quills in his other hand into the liquid within, and began to stir, even as Snape returned to the Gryffindor side to berate Ron Weasley for his dismal potion.

In half an hour, Harry completed the potion to the perfect shade of green that his textbook indicated, except his had a slight sparkling quality that he felt good about. When Snape had come over to observe, Harry was pleased to see him trying to find something wrong with the potion, and totally failing to do so. For some reason, it led the man to compliment Hermione's potion instead, as if trying to stress that Harry's wasn't.

_As long as Hermione feels better about it..._ Harry shrugged. The girl certainly looked pleased to finally beat Harry.

The remaining half hour was spent taking down notes on the making of a proper boil-cure potion, which involved fired questions from Snape usually aimed at the Gryffindors, who often failed to answer, before the Slytherins took over, and answered perfectly. Harry thought that some of the ways they answered seemed rather mechanical, which gave him the impression that Snape must have coached them in order to show up the Gryffindors, and by the end of the class, the lions had lost a total of five points, which had the other students apart from Harry feeling rather down. Personally, Harry thought that Snape had no skill as a teacher apart from being good at controlling his students.

_Really unpleasant man, this Snape. _Archer's agreement didn't help Harry feel much better.

_Is this person really a friend of my mum? _"You guys go ahead, I forgot something."

"Bad luck, mate. Having to go back to..." Ron shuddered. "Snape."

Harry just shrugged, and walked off with the rest of the boys looking at him with awe at how he didn't seem to fear Snape, particularly Neville, who was still very pale.

Reaching the door, Harry knocked on it. "Professor?"

"Come in." The moment Snape caught sight of Harry, he immediately sneered. "What, Potter? Come to ask me to raise your-"

"I was told that you were a friend of my mother." Harry said quietly, not meeting Snape's eyes as he focused on the determination to know more about his parents in order to match Snape's abrasive personality.

"Who told you that?" Snape demanded, clearly not expecting Harry's question.

"Professor McGonagall, sir. May I ask what was she like? My mother, I mean." Harry asked respectfully.

Snape stared at Harry, his dark eyes unreadable. But eventually, he told Harry about Lily Potter, how he found out that the redhead in the park was a witch, whom he eagerly told about magic and Hogwarts. They remained fast friends, even after Sorting into different Houses.

"Then why didn't you come look for me after my parents died? Sir." Harry asked, curious to know the answer. _This guy definitely isn't telling me everything..._

The man appeared displeased to have Harry ask that question. "I was under the impression that you were... safe."

Harry ran his hand through his snowy white hair. "Apparently everybody did. And they were wrong. Sir."

Snape twitched. "Enough. I have better things to do than to listen to your inane chatter. Go."

"Thank you, Professor Snape." Harry bowed slightly as he took his leave.

Thus, as Harry ate in the Great Hall with the Ravenclaws to get away from the low spirited Gryffindors later, he came to the conclusion that while Snape liked his mother, he sure as hell didn't like Harry.

After lunch, he went down to Hagrid's hut with Neville and Su, with Ron inviting himself along when he found out where they were going, where they met Fang, Hagrid's intimidating looking (Harry had to grab Neville to stop the boy from fleeing) but friendly pet boarhound, and got treated to some tea and rock cakes, which Harry ate after Reinforcing his teeth and jaw while his companions pretended to eat as they stared at Harry chewing away like it was nothing. When Neville brought up Snape's apparent dislike of Harry, Hagrid denied it, but didn't look Harry in the eyes, and changed the subject to Ron's brother Charlie, who was currently working on a dragon reserve in Romania.

Then any thought of Snape went out of Harry's mind when he saw a newspaper clipping under one of the tea cozies; it mentioned a Gringotts break-in, right on 31 July. As Harry read while the others talked around him, he noticed that the vault happened to have been emptied on the same day.

_Why would Hagrid cut this out? _Harry wondered. _It shouldn't be related to him._

_Remember what Hagrid said when you met him there on that day? _Archer spoke up, clearly thinking as well. _Gringotts is one of the safest places in Britain, yet he, on Dumbledore's orders, took something out. There are two reasons why one would do something like that. One is because of a need for an item..._

_And the other is when you need to move that item to a safer place. _Harry recalled the day he received Ilya; Hagrid had remarked to him that the only place safer than Gringotts...

...was Hogwarts.

With a start, Harry realized that Dumbledore was holding something in a castle full of children, something that someone, someone powerful enough to break past the warlike goblins, was after. _IS THAT OLD FOOL _SERIOUS_?_

_Apparently so. Or maybe he could just be mad. But mad people in power can do lots of damage. _Archer answered soberly.

Harry suddenly remembered what he came here intending to ask. "Say, Hagrid, how did you know I was free this afternoon?"

"Ah, when I went up ter see Dumbledore - great man, Dumbledore - I spotted a copy of yer timetable on his desk. Thought maybe you'd like ter come down for tea and all that."

When the four students returned up to the castle with rock cakes in their pockets later (except for Harry, who claimed he was full - the other three gave him dirty looks), Harry grew increasingly sure that Dumbledore intended to involve him in this some way. There were just too many coincidences for his liking.

* * *

(1) This came from one of those timetravel fanfics, I can't remember which, but I thought that Harry did have a point in a sense that Malfoy insulted him.

(2) Idea adapted from Neville Longbottom and the Harry Potter by December Morning Owl. Very good story that shows an OC with knowledge of HPverse entering the world of Harry Potter. Wish there are more of these.

Stupid plot bunny chapter. It kept bothering my mind until I wrote it out in 8 hours straight of writing. Hopefully I can continue to work on my Touhou story now.

At first I thought of writing day by day for Harry, but then I realized that I didn't really feel like fleshing out each and every character he was going to meet right from the start. For that matter, read Neville Longbottom and the Harry Potter by December Morning Owl. The writer does a good job of showing each character's personality, even for the OCs he picked to feature in his story.

I've also just read another Manipulative Dumbledore story, and while I'm largely intending to go the well-meaning but stupidly failing route, it's VERY clear that the entire events of the first book was a definite test for Harry. I mean, seriously, there's like so many ways the traps set up could have been better. So yeah, it's a First Test, as you will.

Regarding magic in HPverse, I took the opposite route regarding wandless magic. I remember reading quite a few fanfics about how accidental magic equals wandless magic, eventually showing a Super Harry throwing around spells like Iron Man shoots his repulsor blasts. If it was, then Harry might have done something else to his teacher rather than turn a wig blue.

My belief is: wizards in this story have something like energy cores within them, which grows with age and exercise, but the only way they can express it is with the wands, which serve as the magic circuit that Nasuverse magi have. Perhaps in the past, wizards were able to use true wandless magic, but keep in mind that use of a mage circuit in one's body causes pain and numbness (according to Type-Moon wiki), so when some enterprising wizard came up with the idea of using the pseuo-magic circuits in wands (probably said something like, 'Look, Ma, no pain!'), I'm sure many people leapt at the chance to use magic without pain, and eventually true wandless magic vanished. Current wandless magic is nothing more than a burst of prana with the wizard's will acting as the thaumaturgic system (which isn't a very good one), and as such, wizards can only do small, one-shot stuff that they have to train themselves before anything useful can be achieved, while Harry has no problems putting up a bounded field without his wand.

There's a long discussion to be had about what sort of Thaumaturgical system the wizards are using, if we look at magic under Nasuverse lenses. But I'm not going into it.

Anyway, I put another clue to the nature of how Archer and Harry are linked. Review more, please!


	6. Fourth Spell

When Harry woke up, it was still rather dark out. Even so, he got out of bed and opened his trunk, retrieving the bow inside. He equipped himself with a quiver of his own arrows, and made his way out of the Gryffindor dorms.

So far, he had adapted quite well to life at Hogwarts. Classes were mostly fun as Harry performed well enough in them, but what Harry didn't like was the need to write long essays as homework. Sometimes it was quite a chore to do, especially since it took time away from his explorations of Hogwarts castle.

Not that Harry didn't mind a good examination of how magic could be altered to suit one's purposes, but some of the ways they went about it made him want to scream in frustration.

_At least I got non-magical science to fall back on when I get tired. _Harry thought about the thick stack of books lying in his trunk with a bit of relief.

His foster parents had come through for him, and it had taken Ilya and two other owls to carry the heavy textbooks all the way to Hogwarts. It was difficult trying to keep track of two fields of studies at the same time, but at least he didn't have to do homework for one of them. And he had someone who could tutor him as well, since Archer had apparently learned the subjects he asked his parents for.

Since the first week, Harry continued to do well in his classes, competing for the top spots with Hermione and the Ravenclaws in his group. His magic responded very easily, and with each spell he cast, he noticed that his hawthorn wand was adapting itself to him, just like what the books on wandlore said; eventually, it would probably respond at a level approaching one of Archer's magic circuits in his body. As if reflecting that progress, his magecraft continued to improve as well, with the biology textbook helping to explain how he could further improve his Reinforcement, while the general science one gave him a much better understanding of what he was handling when practicing Altering, and studying chemical structure granted Harry a better pattern that worked surprisingly well when he wove his bounded fields. The synergy brought on by introducing non-magical subjects into his studying curriculum was proving to be useful, especially since Archer had advised him to stop scanning library books for a while, until his mind developed enough to comprehend the knowledge he wanted to absorb.

However, the new books also brought along their share of problems; mail always arrived in the morning, and Hermione's curious personality wouldn't let her go without wanting to know just what he received. Harry tried to conceal it at first, predicting that she would get annoyed that he was learning more on the side, and when he finally gifted her with her own set on her birthday, he was unfortunately proven to be correct. The girl hadn't gotten over the fact that he performed better than her in their classes, and all that frustration finally spilled over, culminating in a shouting match up in Harry's dorm room. The boy tried to settle the matter peacefully, but she kept accusing him of showing off his knowledge, until he finally lost his temper and told her in blunt terms just why he hadn't showed her in the first place, pointing out that _she_ was the one who showed off in every class by trying to be the first one to answer every question to reveal her own knowledge, and revealed that he knew she would react like that. In the end, Hermione turned her back on him and refused to listen any further.

Still, the event had left him with a bad taste in his mouth, and an overwhelming need to work off his stress. Thankfully, Hagrid provided the solution; when Harry noticed the big man's gigantic crossbow during his last Friday visit, he asked if he could get anything to practice his archery on, and Hagrid was only too happy to provide straw bales for Harry to use as targets during his free time.

He managed to leave the castle without any of the portraits noticing, and strode over to where the targets were set up near Hagrid's cottage. Placing his quiver next to him, Harry took up a position with the targets barely out of range, and after Reinforcing his bow to deal with the cold temperature, started firing. He imagined his anger leaving his body with each twang of the bowstring, and by the time he finished the entire quiver, Harry was calm.

_Archer, how am I supposed to deal with that girl? _He asked in his mind, looking at the cluster of arrows sticking out of the target.

_She's extremely stubborn, that's for sure. I doubt she will listen to you even if you try to apologize to-_

_I'm NOT going to apologize for something that isn't my fault! _Harry snapped back, his temper picking up again.

_I'm not telling you to. But with the way things are, any attempt to reach out to her would only fail. She has to be receptive as well. Remember the letter you got from her parents?_

_Yeah,_ Harry thought back to the piece of mail he had received three days ago, _I'm not surprised to find out that they haven't been in her life that much. _

According to Hermione's parents, she spent most of her time growing up under a nanny's supervision, without much adult interaction and only her books for company when she was young. Then her love of books and new knowledge caused the other kids in her school to shun her for not sharing the same interests as them, further isolating her from human interaction with her peers, and causing her personality to cement further. Her attachment to authority figures was just something that came about because they had helped her, according to Archer.

Harry knew what Archer was talking about; he himself wanted to become a hero because that was what Archer was, and Archer confided to Harry that he had started out on the road because he wanted to help others after seeing the happy expression of someone who helped him back in his youth.

_In fact, _Archer had said to him, _You could say that the man was like a father to me._

Harry could tell there was something else that Archer wasn't saying. After spending so long with the spirit in his head, he knew that while Archer talked a lot about his experiences and never lied to him, the hero kept secrets about his past, even from Harry. Still, he trusted Archer enough to know that the hero didn't do so out of ill intent; everyone had their right to keep their own secrets.

Except Hermione didn't seem to recognize that fact. Feeling himself start to get angry again, Harry picked up the quiver and went to retrieve his arrows, intent on shooting another round. By the time he was finished, at least a quarter of the school was at breakfast already, and Harry had to rush back in order to put away his items in time to grab a bite.

It was Thursday of the third week, and according to a notice pinned up in the common room, flying lessons were starting - Gryffindor and Slytherin. While Harry thought that using brooms to fly was a bit stupid, flying itself was a different matter entirely. And the rest of the children shared his enthusiasm; in addition to those who came from wizarding families talking about Quidditch nearly constantly, Seamus Finnigan made it sound as though he spent most of his childhood flying around the countryside, while Ron Weasley claimed to have nearly hit a hang-glider on his brother's old broom. Even Malfoy forgot about his awkwardness around Harry, allowing Harry to hear him boast about how his skills in flying had helped him evade helicopters.

That left Harry and Dean as the exceptions, with Neville siding with them only because the chubby boy had never ridden a broom before in his life. On Harry's suggestion, he and Dean started teaching Neville how to kick a ball around, in the hopes that he would eventually learn not to be so clumsy. However, so far they weren't very successful; Neville tripped over the ball or his own feet enough times that they had to bring him to the school nurse to treat his bruises.

"...by keeping your hands within six inches away from your seat, one can achieve the maximum amount of control over-" Sitting a good distance away from Harry was Hermione, giving tips she had read from a library book called Quidditch Through The Ages.

Neville sat across from her, his spoon paused between his cereal bowl and his mouth as he tried to memorize what she was saying. When the morning mail came, Harry noticed that most of those near the girl looked relieved when she broke off to look up expectantly, further testifying to her social isolation.

Ilya fluttered down on one of her visits, not carrying anything for Harry. She grabbed some of his bacon and drank from the goblet Harry made sure to have for her, before flying off, just as a barn owl landed in front of Neville with a package from his grandmother.

The boy opened it with excitement on his face, and showed his interested audience what looked like a large glass marble. "It's a Remembrall! Gran knows I forget things, this tells you if there's something you forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and- oh," Neville's face fell as the item in his grip suddenly glowed scarlet, "You've forgotten something..."

Harry noticed Malfoy, who had been passing by, take notice of Neville's gift, but he was on the opposite side of the table from them, and thus couldn't do anything when the blonde Slytherin snatched the Remembrall from Neville's hand. However, Ron was sitting on that same side, and immediately leapt to his feet, looking eager to have a chance to get at Malfoy.

_Archer! Need some help here! _Harry called out to the hero.

"Good morning, Malfoy." Archer's smooth tone made them all freeze, not giving away how furiously the linked minds were working. "It says much about your upbringing when you take things without asking permission first." Their index finger tapped the surface of the table in an even rhythm as they spoke, before slamming down with a loud thud that made the person he was talking to flinch. "What would your _father_ say, I wonder..."

The Slytherin often talked about how his father would do anything for him, and as Harry noticed during the mail delivery, he often received care packages from home, which usually consisted of sweets and other snacks. Archer identified it as a child who was extremely proud of his parent, and therefore averse to doing things that would evoke disappointment from that adult.

Malfoy practically threw the Remembrall back at Neville with a hurried apology before making a hasty exit with Crabbe and Goyle following. Meanwhile, the rest of the first year Gryffindors congratulated Harry for chasing off Malfoy with nothing but words, except for Hermione, who looked away when Harry glanced in her direction. Neville was grateful for the help, one of many cases of assistance that Harry had given him ever since the first time on the train. He mentioned this to Harry as they left for their morning classes.

"Really, Harry, you keep doing all this for me... even though I'm barely more than a Squib." Neville brought up the issue of his failure to perform well in any of the wand-based classes.

"I just like helping people out." Harry replied truthfully. "But really, Neville, why do you say that?"

"Because I've never shown any case of accidental magic apart from the time I bounced?"

Harry thought it was just the opposite. Accidental magic was very similar to wandless magic, where the prana would come out of the wizard's body to evoke an effect, but it usually responded to the will of the owner, or in the former case, strong emotions, which Harry doubted Neville experienced much given how his grandmother coddled him. As for why he thought Neville's magic was strong, it was because Harry had first-hand knowledge of how hard it was to reinforce one's body with magic. If Neville unconsciously did it to the extent that he bounced, the boy must be very strong indeed.

Which begged the question, why couldn't Neville cast a proper spell?

_Something has to be wrong with the flow of- That's it, the flow! From the core through the channel to the world! _Harry used one of his own personal descriptions for the basic magical theory. _If the core is fine but the world isn't affected the way it's expected to, then the problem must lie in the channel! Or rather, the wand!_

"Neville, is there something wrong with your wand?"

"Huh?" The other boy seemed confused by the apparent change in subject. "It's my dad's, actually. Why?" Neville fumbled around his bag and pulled out the old-looking wand.

A brief jolt of glee went through Harry as he realized his guess was being proven right. "Because one of the things I heard was that the wand chooses its owner. Just because it's your dad's wand doesn't mean it chose you."

"Y-you mean that all those ti-times I failed to cast a spell... was because my dad's wand didn't work for me?" Neville looked at the long piece of wood as though it betrayed him in some way.

"Maybe." Harry shrugged, feigning a lack of concrete knowledge. "Why don't you have your own wand, anyway?"

Neville looked down at the floor. "...my grandmother wanted me to use my dad's old wand."

_Sounds like his grandmother is trying to make Neville into his own father. _Archer commented, having listened in.

_I'm not sure what sort of person Neville dad was, but I'm quite sure that Neville won't be him. _Harry replied. Out loud, he said, "Well, doing that isn't helping you cast any spells so far, so why not try getting a wand of your own? I think McGonagall wouldn't mind letting you go to Ollivander's."

"But..." Neville looked torn, like he wanted to do so, yet appeared to dislike Harry's suggestion.

_Maybe that wand is special to him in some way. It was his dad's, remember._ Archer proved to be as perceptive as ever.

"Besides," Harry continued without giving any indication of the extra voice in his head, "If that wand was your dad's, shouldn't you store it somewhere safely?"

"You really think that Neville's been having trouble because of his wand? I'm using my brother Charlie's old wand, myself." Ron Weasley, who had been listening in, interrupted their conversation.

"Probably. You should get your own one too, if that's the case." Harry didn't miss how Ron suddenly went pink and started muttering.

He knew very well just how the Weasley family's circumstances were when it came to money, since most of Ron's possessions were second-hand, and he often cast jealous looks at Harry when he thought the white-haired boy wasn't looking. It was also something that he picked up on when he asked around about the Weasleys, but clearly, they had their pride in not relying on handouts, and that was something Harry respected the redheaded family for. But he still didn't feel inclined to befriend Ron Weasley.

Thus, during the break period, he sought out Professor McGonagall, and quietly informed her about the two boys' wands, and suggesting that they should get that matter rectified (preferably without letting their guardians know), even handing over the gold needed to purchase the wands. The witch gave him a look of strong approval, and agreed not to tell either boy where the money had came from, before sending him back to pass on the message that she would bring both boys to Diagon Alley on Saturday morning, along with thirty points that Harry didn't care about.

Later that afternoon, Harry followed the rest of the first year Gryffindors out onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. He took one look at the school brooms and immediately realized that for once, the Weasley twins weren't lying when they talked about the condition of them. The Slytherins had already assembled there, and had picked the ones that were in better condition, leaving the Gryffindors with the more dodgy ones. Still, Harry nodded to Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins, like Daphne and Blaise Zabini, keeping up his image of one who wasn't (with the sole exception of Malfoy) biased.

A witch with short grey hair and yellow hawk-like eyes, who he figured was their teacher Madam Hooch, walked up. "Well? What are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broom! Come on, hurry up!" She barked out orders like a drill sergeant.

"Structural Analysis." Harry muttered under his breath as he looked down at the broom next to him, which had a few bristles sticking out of the tail at odd angles.

Archer made a sound of interest as the information filled their minds. _Amazing... this broom, Harry, is an actual example of a Mystic Code. _

_The type that activates with my prana, right? _Harry asked to confirm, and received anaffirmative answer.

Madam Hooch stood at the front. "Stick your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"

"Up." Harry spoke softly, but made sure that his will was clear; the broom instantly connected to his prana and jumped straight into his hand.

Looking around, he noticed that he was one of the only few who had succeeded that way; Neville's one stayed still, while Hermione's rolled over. _I think Neville's got some kind of lockdown on his magic. These brooms normally pick up on the stray energy that wizards give off, but if it doesn't respond at all..._

Archer was silent.

Harry sighed in resignation. _Read up on it?_

_Of course. And you should try telling them to mean their words when they say 'up'._

Harry complied, and eventually everyone managed to get their brooms into their hands (Hermione gave him another dirty look that he frowned back at, but didn't say anything to). Madam Hooch then went down the rows showing them how to mount and remain seated on their brooms. Harry made sure to be looking unconcernedly away after she told Malfoy that his way was a result of years of doing it wrongly, while Ron appeared to be happy that his Slytherin counterpart had messed up.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch instructed, "Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly."

Harry spotted Neville's shaking hands. "Neville, calm-" He started to hiss.

"On my whistle, three, two-"

Before Harry could stop him, Neville had already kicked off a second early, shooting up at a rapid pace.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted.

_Damn it! _Harry cursed, looking up at the shrinking figure. _Archer! I think I'm going to need your help for this!_

_Go. _Archer's presence was solidly reassuring, and Harry kicked off immediately.

Behind him, he could hear the others shouting and screaming, but ignored them and focused solely on reaching Neville. He could hear the wind rushing past his ears and causing his robes to whip around behind him as he shot upwards nearly vertically, pushing his prana into the broom to enhance its speed. With a brief jolt of joy, Harry realized that flying on a broom came naturally to him; the old piece of wood was slightly off in its control, but he instinctively knew what to do to compensate for it, and made the necessary adjustments.

"Ha-Ha-Ha-Harryyyyy?" Neville squeaked when Harry finally reached him.

"Keep your hands on the broom!" Harry instructed in a soft voice, heeding Archer's advice in his mind not to startle the other boy. "And look straight at me. Eyes, on me."

Terrified, Neville obeyed, his dark eyes locked fearfully on Harry's determined expression.

"Good. Now we're going to go down, slowly." Harry reached out with one hand and grabbed the shaft of Neville's broom. "Don't let go."

"I-I-I won't."

"And ignore the clapping." He added as an afterthought.

"What?" Neville almost looked down at what the other Gryffindors were doing.

"Keep your eyes on me, I said!"

"So-sorry..."

The slow descent took a while, and Madam Hooch met them halfway to help control Neville's broom. The Gryffindors were clapping excitedly, and some of the Slytherins were as well, though Harry noticed that Malfoy looked rather surly.

"You okay, boy?" Madam Hooch asked Neville, her voice no longer sharp, but filled with concern.

"I-I'm fine..." Neville replied shakily. "Th-thanks again, Harry...?" He trailed off as he noticed Harry weaving around on the broom a few feet off the ground.

"No problem." Harry answered absently. "This is easier than I expected..."

Madam Hooch cleared her throat. "Mr Potter, I think you should stop that so I can continue the class."

"Oh. Oops, sorry." Harry turned the broom towards the students and came in for a running dismount in front of Madam Hooch, making it look very smooth.

"Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor for helping your Housemate." She added.

"Bloody hell! You sure you never flew on a broom before?" Ron asked as he rejoined them.

"Never. I guess I must have inherited my dad's skill for Quidditch." Harry had heard McGonagall about how his father was a great Chaser for the team, a fact that aroused the only bit of interest he had in the sport.

_You didn't need my help after all. _Archer noted.

_But at least I know you're there to help in case I mess up. _

The rest of the flying class passes without incident, with Harry giving tips that the others found much more helpful compared to Hermione's. Of course, the bushy-haired girl took notice of this, and cornered him in an empty classroom after the flying class.

"Just how did you do it? How can you just fly like that?" She demanded.

"Oh, are you talking to me again?"

"Don't you give me that, Harry Potter! I thought you grew up without magic, like me! Then how are you doing so well in every class!" Hermione's voice raised as she went on.

_Archer... this is looking bad. I think she's going to explode. And frankly, I feel like doing the same with her shouting at me like this._

_Hmm... I told you, she's not going to listen unless you can make her understand your point of view. _

"I work hard, just like you." Harry explained, keeping his tone tightly controlled. "You don't think I just explore every night, do you?"

"But then-"

He was getting tired of the interruptions, and countered with one of his own. "And besides! Your essays are better than mine, Flitwick, McGonagall, Sprout, they all say so!"

That piece of news seemed to shock Hermione. "Really?"

Seeing his chance, Harry quickly nodded. "Professor Flitwick wishes you were in Ravenclaw, you know, and McGonagall considers herself lucky that you're in hers! And don't tell me that you aren't one of the first few who manage to cast the spells we're being taught!"

He didn't mention that he had heard Sprout complain about the length of Hermione's essays, which often went over the required length by more than half in every subject.

Preoccupied with hearing her teachers' praise for her, Hermione actually looked happy. The sight of her expression annoyed Harry, and he decided to shock her back to reality.

"As for how I can fly, it just came to me." He pointed at her face, which lost its smile after that statement. "How do you expect to be good at flying if you were so scared?"

"I wasn't scared!" Hermione denied vehemently.

_Harry, that's not the right thing to say, _Archer warned, _You're losing your temper as well._

About to follow up with another cutting statement, Harry caught himself and shook his head. _Sorry, Archer. Thanks for stopping me. _"Haa..." He sighed. "You know what, Hermione? I don't understand why you want to be first in everything."

"I do not!" As if realizing what she said, the girl suddenly looked awkward. "Okay... maybe I do, but..."

"I learned early on in my life. That there's always someone better." Harry thought back to how Archer's skill with his blades seemed surreal in their smoothness, tempting Harry with something he could not hope to achieve. "I'm not going to compete with you, Hermione. If you want to work hard to try and beat me, then do so. But stop throwing a hissy fit just because I happen to perform one spell before you do."

"I'm not throwing a hissy fit!" Hermione stamped her foot.

Harry's eyelid twitched. _She's been denying everything I pointed out about her. Just how stubborn can she be? _"You'll give yourself wrinkles if you stress out about it so much, you know." He said, shaking his head.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" She screeched.

In the end, Harry thought that his efforts in trying to get Hermione to see her own errors had been largely useless. The girl simply refused to see him as anything other than an academic rival she had to beat no matter what, and when he spotted her later, she was studying with an intensity that scared anyone else away from her. And for some reason that Harry couldn't see, Archer had the opinion that it was partially the boy's fault.

* * *

Harry picked at the steak and kidney pie they were having for dinner that night, his third slice. According to Archer, magi didn't have increased appetites after using their circuits, but apparently that didn't apply to Harry when he was casting spells with his wand; his stomach could growl with an intensity to match Ron's by mealtimes when the day's classes had a wand-based one. But right now, he wished he had chosen to sit with the Hufflepuffs or the Ravenclaws instead, since the other boys were busy discussing Quidditch and bemoaning the fact that they couldn't join the team as they were still first-years (Neville didn't like flying, but he still followed the sport), and with his current relationship with Hermione, he doubted she would let him approach any closer than five meters without giving him the coldest glare she could muster.

Sighing, he put down his fork and left the hall, but before he could go up the stairs, two people appeared in his way.

"Oh hello there, young Harry."  
"Heard about your daring rescue during flying class today."

"Oh, hi Fred, hi George." Harry greeted the twins tiredly, looking at the air between them.

After their first meeting on the train, Harry barely interacted with the two third year Gryffindors apart from friendly nods and greetings, though he did catch them eyeing him speculatively at times. Their pranks were always a laugh, though Harry found a few rather malicious. Still, since he couldn't do anything to stop them, Harry just let them pass, but with the resolve to step in if they went too far.

But why they would approach him now, he had no idea.

"How can I help you two?"

"Well, young Harry-"  
"We were wondering-"  
"-if you could answer some questions."

This time, Harry looked between the two of them. "Somewhere more private?"

They looked at each other, then back at Harry.

"Oh, certainly!"  
"Spiffing idea!"  
"Let us be off, Gred!" The one on the left grabbed Harry's left shoulder.  
"Right you are, Forge!" His twin did the same on the other side.

_...at times like this, _Harry thought to himself as he was towed down the corridor by his upper arms, _I really wish that I was bigger._

_Growing takes time, Harry. There are things you can't rush._

They brought Harry down to a very familiar corridor, coming to a stop outside a portrait of a man with a snake peeking out from behind a rock.

"You know, young Harry. We've noticed that you seem to vanish entirely around this area." The one Harry thought was George started off first.

"And we were wondering if you managed to find a way out of the school." Fred finished.

_How? How could they tell? I made sure that I wasn't followed when I come to practice my magecraft! _Harry thought furiously, his smooth features cracking slightly. _I even checked that there wasn't any warning wards around the place!_

_Calm down and think carefully, Harry. You aren't thinking this through enough. _Archer said.

_What am I missing? Some kind of extra-hidden bounded field?_

_Here's a clue: You're missing the forest for the trees._

Harry blinked at those words, turning them over in his mind before slapping his forehead in understanding.

"That looked painful." Fred commented.

George shrugged. "Maybe he thought of an excuse."

"You two... you've got something that lets you see where everybody in the castle is, don't you?" Harry voiced his suspicion.

The twins whistled together. "Intelligent one, aren't you? Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?"

_Another question that I've been waiting for! _Harry expected people to ask about that long before this, but now he finally had a chance to use the excuse he thought up. "Because the hat found my mind too sharp for it. That's why it yelped when it was Sorting me."

George looked intrigued by what Harry said, while Fred chuckled. "Really? We figured that it was because your mind wrestled it into putting you into Gryffindor."

Harry just shrugged. "So what now, gentlemen? A trade of secrets?"

The twins straightened up and nodded eagerly. "We'll show you ours-"  
"If you show us yours."

_Archer? _Harry decided to get an extra opinion before doing so. _My notes are hidden safely, I'm sure of that._

_Go ahead. Bounded fields is something common in magecraft, just like wards is in wizard magic. Say it's some kind of special ward you've been working on. _

"Alright. Just let me open this up." Harry turned to the man in the picture. "Kanshou and Bakuya." (1)

No one in a European wizarding school would guess _that_ password.

The picture opened to admit the three students into Harry's secret room. It had come quite a ways from the empty dust-caked room he had first found it in; a modest writing desk and chair stood in a corner, with a small couch on the opposite side and a carpet in the center between them. In one corner stood a short bookshelf that appeared to be empty. All of the furniture came from unused rooms, carried by a Reinforced Harry after curfew, when most of the portraits were asleep. That was before he found out about House Elves, but it made for good practice.

"_Incendio._" Harry flicked his wand at the torch brackets, setting them alight and casting light throughout the room.

"Wicked. We've been wondering how you get into this place, but for some reason, the password we have doesn't work." One of the twins told Harry as they looked around the place.

_Good to know that the Parseltongue password is working. _"You have your own password?"

"Yeah." The other one chimed in, flopping down onto the couch. "Kan-show and Ba-cool-ya." He pronounced, then made a face. "No wonder we couldn't get in. We kept saying it wrongly."

_Guess not. _Archer teased.

_We don't know that yet! _Harry argued. Out loud, he said, "How come you have my password?"

The twins' eyes came alight with a sense of cunning. "Ah! Now we come to the important issue-"  
"-where's the secret passage?"

"There isn't any." Harry told them immediately.

"What? But then how-"  
"-do you disappear off the map?"

Harry didn't miss the word. "Map?" He asked.

Both twins winced, and the one on the couch shot a glare at his brother. "George!"

His twin looked abashed. "Sorry, Fred. But you were thinking the same thing."

_Some kind of twin telepathy? _

_It appears so. _Archer answered.

"Can I see this map?"

The redheads looked at each other, having a silent conversation, but eventually they just shrugged and approached Harry. George reached into a pocket and pulled out a blank, worn piece of parchment, which he unfolded twice into a large square.

"This, young Harry, is the secret of our success."  
"Created by a group of noble men-"  
"To help new generations of lawbreakers-"  
"To achieve their full potential."

Harry didn't say anything. He was too busy staring at the blank parchment, having already analyzed it the moment George pulled it out. It was an amazing piece of work, layered with multiple charms and spells that linked it to the castle's bounded fields, and even Archer was impressed by the level of complexity. And with the combination of his improved grasping and understanding of charms, he realized he knew the password to activate it.

"Harry? You okay?" One of the twins asked, having noticed the boy's silence.

"I think he doesn't believe us."

"No, I believe you." Harry looked up at the two of them, taking out his wand. "What was it you said when I first met you? Something about some people being up to no good, if I recall." Reaching out, he tapped the parchment with his blank wand. "I'm guessing this has a password... something like... 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'?"

Instantly, ink lines began to spread out from the point where Harry's wand touched the map, crisscrossing and joining each other as they grew, until finally, curly words blossomed across the top in green ink, proclaiming: _**Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present **_**THE MARAUDER'S MAP**.

Fred and George gaped at Harry, who raised an eyebrow back at them. "Wha, how, how did you know the password?" Fred spluttered.

"I guessed."

"That's just impossible!" George said in disbelief. "It took us a whole week to figure it out!"

"You gave me the clue." Harry pointed out.

That made the twins look at each other, and they both groaned at the same time. "Fine," Fred conceded, "Maybe it was a lucky guess on the first part."

Three heads bent over the map as two of them took turns explaining how it allowed those who could work it to not only see and use the secret ways around Hogwarts Castle, even going so far as to reveal the passwords, but also allowed them to keep track of anyone within in the form of labeled ink dots.

"Like us, right-" Fred stopped, his jaw dropping open. "Wait, where are we? We're not showing up!"

"You're kidding! Let me see." George pushed his head closer to his brother's to stare at the same spot. "Bloody hell! You're right, we're not on the map!"

They both turned to look at an innocent Harry, who was sitting back on his heels looking back at them. "Special ward." He said simply.

"Merlin..." Fred whispered. "Think of the possibilities..."

"Harry, you've _got_ to tell us how you do it!" George begged.

The bounded fields that filled the room simply followed the law of magecraft by creating a mystic boundary line that separated the inside from the outside, thus the interior of the room could be described as a place that did not exist within Hogwarts. Perhaps a single bounded field would have been detected by the Hogwarts' one, Harry reasoned, but since he layered them, the place he was in would be separated on several levels higher. It probably helped that each field was meant to evade detection, which may have led to a compounding of their effects.

"What would you do with it?" Harry asked cautiously.

"What would we do? What _couldn't_ we do!" George grinned widely. "We could prank all we like!"

The younger boy sighed. "Firstly, it's not really that great. The ward's meant to protect me from those trying to find me, but if they already know where I am, it won't work. And second," He continued, "I was just playing around. It might not work if you try to reshape it according to what you want."

"Surely we could see your notes?" Fred asked desperately.

Harry shook his head. "Not for this. It was dangerous casting this ward. My body felt really hot, and there was this pain inside my body," He pressed a closed fist against his chest, sounding haunted, "And when I was finished, some parts of it felt numb."

Both twins immediately looked stricken. "Harry! You shouldn't be doing something like that! You could have killed yourself!" George gasped.

"Never cast the ward again!" Fred echoed his brother's warning, his face pale.

_Actually, that's just how magic circuits work. _Harry was laughing on the inside. "Okay. But anyway, as long as I stay within this ward, I won't show up on most detection spells."

The twins sighed. "If you ever manage to figure out how to cast it safely-"  
"-please share the secret with us, okay?"

"If I can do so." Harry promised, knowing that according to Archer, no human had managed to work his circuits without suffering any untoward effect. "Anyway, how do you clear this?" He asked, looking back at the map.

"Oh, just tap it with your wand again-"  
"-and say, 'Mischief managed!'"  
"And it'll go blank."

Harry did as they told him and watched the ink on the parchment vanish. "Nice." He picked it up and held it out.

George took it back and put it away. "So what do you do here, Harry?"

"Practicing and studying when I want to be alone. You don't think I sleep on that desk, do you?"

Fred chuckled. "Have to keep ahead of Granger, eh?"

"Anyway, we'd best be off." George stood up.

"Don't worry-"  
"We'll keep this a secret."  
"We'll show you our hideout next time, ickle Harry."  
"Just you wait, it's loads more exciting than this!"

Harry waved as they left ahead of him, before looking at the empty bookshelf and triggering the bounded fields that covered it. Instantly, what was previously empty shelves became filled with seven notebooks. He took one of them and went over to the desk, and after taking out a pen from the drawer, began to write down this new discovery.

_Well played, Harry._ Archer congratulated him, making the boy pause in his writing.

_Thanks, Archer. Imagine the havoc they would wreak if they could use magecraft. _Harry shuddered. The honking shoes were annoying enough. _At least we benefited more than they did._

_True. That map could be used for a variety of purposes. _

Harry laid down his pen. _Want to give it a try?_

Archer agreed, and Harry took out a roll of parchment and laid it in front of him on top of his hands. Back when Harry was trying to learn Archer's Tracing, and they found that they had to work in tandem to achieve it, Harry came up with his own incantation in trying to make a signal they could both work on. Arias were necessary things for the activation of magecraft, and while Harry could get by with barely audible whispers of Structural Analysis or Reinforcement, Tracing was an exception.

"Synchro." He spoke out loud, focusing on the blueprint of the map he kept in his mind. "Start."

Inside, Archer joined his voice to Harry's as the boy continue to speak his own personal version of Archer's Tracing incantation. "_Trace... on. Concept, structure,_" They omitted the part that involved the material since they were using the parchment as a base, "_Making, experience, reproduce._"

The parchment glowed briefly, twisting in shape until it became the same square look as the original Marauder's Map.

"_Trace, off._" Harry disconnected from his magic circuits and looked at his copy of the map, before taking out his wand and tapping it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

It activated at his command, and both Harry and Archer began examining it for differences. _Looks good, it seems like some of the dots blank out occasionally, but it should be fine. _

While Projection magecraft materialized an object from the magus's imagination, the created object was always inferior compared to the original. Tracing was similar in that sense, but since it replicated history in addition to the shape and substance, the degree of difference was much lesser.

Harry opened another drawer in the desk and took out one of his own maps, and began comparing them. The Marauder's Map was extremely comprehensive, and he managed to add quite a bit to his own, though he made sure to shade the areas that he had yet to explore; Harry doubted that a map made twenty years ago could have found every secret way in a thousand year-old castle.

* * *

"Potter." Draco Malfoy's sudden appearance on Friday night after dinner took Harry by surprise, but he managed to recover in time to reply.

"Malfoy." _Not as good as Archer's, but it should do. _"Did you need my help for something?"

"No!" Malfoy snapped. "I'm here to tell you that I'm not going to bow down to you! A Malfoy has his pride!"

_Hmm... this isn't his usual posturing. He's serious, Harry._

_What should I do, Archer? _Despite all of Harry's experiences so far, he had no idea how to face someone who confronted him in this manner, since he had never encountered it before.

For once, Archer seemed unsure about what to say. _Sometimes, one needs a rival. But for now, just acknowledge his decision with respect._

_You're not going to help me on this? _Harry demanded.

_No, Harry. This is something that you should do alone. _Archer's reply was filled with conviction, and Harry knew he would not be able to sway the hero.

The boy took a deep breath, and met Malfoy's grey eyes. "Well said, Malfoy. Thus, I shall respect you."

The blonde opened his mouth, then closed it as he tried to think of a way to answer Harry.

"Anything else, Malfoy?" Feeling a bit impatient, Harry tried to move things along a little. "If there's nothing..."

"A wizard's duel!" Malfoy suddenly burst out. "I challenge you to a wizard's duel, Potter!"

This time it was Harry's turn to be speechless. _Archer, I don't think this was supposed to happen. _

Sensing weakness, the other boy continued, "What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

Recovering, Harry shot back with a retort, "No, I haven't _heard_ of one, but I did read about them. I accept. Name the time, place and rules."

"Tonight at midnight, in the trophy room. Wands only, no contact." The words spilled out quickly. "Who's your second? Mine's Crabbe." Malfoy decided after glancing at his followers.

_Crap. _Harry had forgotten about that part. "I will find one later."

"Then it is decided."

They exchanged a nod, and walked past each other. But a few meters past, Harry turned and called out to Malfoy, who turned back to see what Harry wanted.

"I expect you _not_ to live up to your surname, _Malfoy_." Harry put emphasis on the name to remind Draco Malfoy what his surname stood for in French.

Malfoy flushed, but nodded and went on his way.

He spent the rest of the evening studying in the library with his group of friends, plus a few of the male Ravenclaws, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein. Hermione didn't sit with them, but she was close enough that she and Harry could see each other. As usual, Harry was one of those who finished his work first, and helped out the others, making sure to keep his volume low enough to avoid Madam Pince's anger. In between requests for help, Harry started thinking of ways he could get his homework done more quickly as he flipped through a random book without really reading it.

_There's no shortcut to excellence, Harry. _Archer spoke disapprovingly.

_Of course I'm not going to cheat all the time, _Harry hastily defended himself, _But wasting all this time on History essays just doesn't seem... worth it. Flitwick says there are charms for anything we can think of, so maybe there's one that writes essays for me? There are self-stirring cauldrons already, so..._

Harry stopped, but he could still feel that Archer wasn't liking his way of thinking. However, Harry wasn't caring; he had realized that maybe there WAS a way to get his essays written for him.

_Quills! Wizards use quills to write, there are self-inking quills, auto-correcting quills... _A grin started to spread across Harry's face.

"Harry! What's so funny?" Susan hissed from across the table.

"Huh?" He looked around to see the others staring at him curiously. "Just thought of a very good idea."

"Mind sharing with us?" Justin asked, looking very eager to know what Harry was thinking.

Harry waved a hand dismissively. "Not right now. I'll get back to you once I know whether it's feasible."

"Feasible? What does that mean?" Tracey asked, causing Daphne to lean over to whisper into her friend's ear. "Ohhh... okay. I can wait."

Closing time came, and the group split up to return to their respective House dorms. Hermione looked quite stressed, but refused to accept any concern and rushed ahead of them to get back to the Gryffindor common room first. Slowing down, Harry tugged on Neville's sleeve and pulled the other boy into a small alcove.

"Neville, I need your help for something later tonight." He whispered.

"What is it, Harry? What do you need me for?"

"Malfoy challenged me to a wizard's duel. I need you as my second."

"WHAT?" Neville yelped.

"SHH!" The white-haired boy hissed. "It's at midnight tonight, in the trophy room."

"Bu-but, that's after curfew! You'll get caught!"

"You think I don't know that? And don't worry about getting caught, I know how to avoid that." Harry patted his pocket, where the Traced copy of the Marauder's Map was. (Archer estimated that it would last for three days at maximum before it needed to be Trace again.)

"But we don't know any dueling spells!"

"Just leave that to me, you won't have to do anything." Harry looked carefully at the boy who performed the worst out of all the Gryffindors. "Can I count on you for this?"

Neville looked as though he was about to faint, but he collected himself and nodded shakily. "You've helped me out loads so far, Harry. It's the least I could do."

_Now we see why the Sorting Hat put him into Gryffindor. _Archer commented, and Harry agreed.

They made it back to the common room, where Hermione already was continuing her work from the library. Harry Reinforced his eyes and saw that despite her ire at his birthday present, she was currently working on it instead of their Hogwarts homework. Since both him and Neville didn't have anything left to do, they joined their roommates for a few games of Exploding Snap and wizard's chess until the sixth year prefect chased them up to their beds. Neville looked like he wouldn't even sleep a wink, but thankfully, none of the other boys paid him any notice. Goodnights were exchanged, and the lights were turned off, leaving three snoring boys and two awake ones.

_Archer, Neville's right. I don't know, I mean, _Harry corrected himself, _I can't perform any of the spells I read ahead for. I doubt the Stinging Hex or the Jelly-Legs Jinx would be enough. And I don't doubt that Malfoy can cast a few curses of his own, considering what people say about his family. I'm sure I can dodge whatever he can cast at me, but defending won't win me this duel. If only he didn't put that no contact rule..._ Harry griped.

The spirit was silent for a long while, but when he spoke, he sounded extremely unsure. _There is a curse that I know, but my circuits aren't suited for it._

_That doesn't help me. I won't be able to translate that spell to cast through my wand._

_Not if you have your own circui- no, it's too dangerous._

_What are you talking about, Archer? Do you know something that I can use? _Harry demanded. _Tell me, please!_

He could feel Archer wavering, and pushed again.

_If anything bad happens, I can go to Madam Pomfrey for help. She knows how to heal a lot of stuff._

_It might not be so easy, Harry..._

_At least tell me and let me judge for myself. _Harry pleaded.

They continued to argue for quite some time, but Archer managed to recover himself, and steadfastedly refused to divulge any further information. Feeling very irritated with the hero, Harry decided to just keep quiet; if anything bad happened, he might need Archer's Tracing, since that ability wouldn't work if they acted apart.

Finally, it came close to twelve, and Harry went over to get Neville up. He had to cover Neville's mouth to prevent the other boy from shouting from surprise, but apart from that, they managed to pull on their bathrobes and leave the room without waking the other three.

The first hitch happened when Neville tripped over the last step and fell onto his front into the common room.

"Whuh?"

Harry's head whipped around in the direction of that voice. _Argh, somebody's still here! _

"Who's there? Hello?"

Harry and Neville recognized the voice immediately, but Neville made the mistake of calling out. "Hermione?"

"Ne-Neville?" The girl came around from an armchair facing away from them, looking as though she was about to fall asleep on her feet. "Harry? What are you two doing up?"

_Damn it, damn it, damn it, why is she down here? _Harry tried to think of something, but came up empty.

Apparently, Hermione found their silence suspicious, because her gaze sharpened and she straightened up. "You're not sneaking out, are you?"

"N-No, wh-why would you s-say that?" Neville stuttered unconvincingly.

"You can't do this, Harry! Don't you care about Gryffindor, about winning the House Cup? Do you think winning all those points gives you the right to break the rules whenever you want?" She was starting to build into a fiery tirade.

_Yeah, I don't care about the House Cup. _Harry thought to himself, but by now, he had enough of her interference. "Neville. You don't have to follow me if you don't want to. I can do this myself. At least that way, only one of us will get into trouble."

Without waiting for a reply, he strode over to the portrait hole and pushed the Fat Lady's picture open. But he had underestimated Neville's courage; a look back a few meters from the exit showed the other boy following him, pale with fear but eyes showing his determination.

"I-I'm not going to run out on you, Harry." He spoke with only the barest hint of a stutter.

However, Hermione wasn't giving up either, and followed them, continuing to hiss like some angry goose, but Harry just stood there and tuned her out until she finally got the message. "Fine!" She snapped, "You'll remember this when you go back home on the train tomorrow!" and turned to enter back through the portrait hole-

Only to find it shut, and the Fat Lady gone off to visit a friend.

Whirling back on the boys, she asked them shrilly, "Now what am I going to do?"

"Wait for her to come back. I don't care anymore. I've got things to do." Harry replied shortly, trying to imagine how he could defeat Draco Malfoy with only simple spells.

Reinforcing his eyes to help see in the dim light, Harry set off down the corridor with Neville following closely, and Hermione bringing up the rear talking about how she would tell the truth that they were the ones at fault if they happened to be caught.

"Hermione, please shut up!" Neville begged. "Someone will hear!"

Hermione shut up.

_Finally. _Harry thought with a relieved roll of his eyes, and checked his copy of the map. _Okay... have to make a bit of a detour because of Filch, but other than that, the path is clear. _"Come on." He beckoned to the other two and continued onwards.

He let them with an assuredness that the other two didn't question, occasionally slowing down in the shadowy areas with a whispered command to hide for a while just in case, when in reality he was double-checking the map under the cover of the darkness. Throughout the entire time, he could sense Archer observing through his eyes, but the Heroic Spirit never said a word; it felt like Harry was currently undergoing some kind of test, and the boy's anger began to dissipate. He felt oddly pleased when he spotted three ink dots marked 'Draco Malfoy', 'Vincent Crabbe' and 'Gregory Goyle' outside the Slytherin dorms, moving in a route that led to the trophy room. Since the selected location was closer to the ground floor, the Slytherins reached there first, and were waiting by the time Harry arrived. Tucking away his map, Harry knocked twice, waited a moment, then entered. The three boys were in their usual positions, and Malfoy had his wand drawn out already.

"Potter," Malfoy greeted him cordially, "I've brought Goyle along as witness."

"What a coincidence," Harry returned casually, "Hermione happened to volunteer as a witness too."

"I did _not_!" The girl hissed from behind him, but he continued to ignore her in favor of keeping his eyes on his opponent.

"Scared?" The other boy tried a taunt, but he looked scared himself.

"Malfoy, I'm a _Gryffindor_." Harry discovered that he liked using the tone that implied the person he was talking to was being stupid.

_Well said, Harry. _Archer applauded, with his usual touch of sarcasm.

_Finally going to help? _

_If my help is needed. _

"Last chance to back out, Potter."

"Let's get it over with, Malfoy." Harry flicked his wrist to get his wand out of its holster and into his hand. "Just because tomorrow's the weekend doesn't mean I'm going to sleep in."

Malfoy's eyes darted to Harry's wand and back up to his face. "Dueled before, have you?"

"Not really," Harry admitted, "But I know the customs."

Hermione picked that moment to interrupt, having figured out just what the pair were up to. "Harry, think about what you're doing! We're not supposed to duel among ourselves!"

"Neville, stay to the side, don't stand behind me." He glanced at his male companion, who nodded. "And keep Hermione out of trouble."

Neville pulled at Hermione's sleeve until they were in a corner out of the way, while Crabbe and Goyle did the same, leaving Harry and Draco standing in the middle of the trophy room facing each other with five meters of distance between them.

"Would you like to lead us in following the customs?" Harry continued to maintain his bluff of confidence. "We'll have Hermione start us off."

"Fine. Wands up!" Malfoy raised his wand point up in front of his face, with Harry following a short beat behind. "Bow!" They bent forward at the spine, making sure to keep their eyes on each other. "Ready!"

Malfoy lifted his wand in front of him and angled his body slightly, but to his opponent, it looked like he was simply imitating someone else, without any of the real skill involved. In response, Harry shifted into one of his Eskrima stances, facing Malfoy with the shoulder of his wand arm, which was tucked low against his stomach, wand pointing away from his opponent, while the other hand was raised in front of his face, covering the lower half, and his legs were spread slightly wider than shoulder width, knees left unlocked. It was definitely unorthodox, and behind his hand, Harry grinned at seeing the other boy's nervousness increase.

"Hermione?" Harry prompted.

"I can't believe I'm doing this..." The girl stepped forward slightly, and took a breath. "Start!" She soft-screamed.

"_Stupefy!_" Malfoy cried out, jabbing his wand in Harry's direction.

A bright red light shot out of the tip, rushing towards Harry, but he simply sidestepped it and let the spell crash into the wall behind him and dissipate. _He can actually use a Stunning Spell! I knew I was right about him knowing some!_

"_Stupefy! Stupefy!_" Another two more Stunners came towards Harry.

He ducked the first one and spun out of the way of the other, returning back to his strange stance.

"What's wrong, Potter? Are you just going to dodge?" panted Malfoy.

_Looks like the casting is taking its toll on him. _Archer made the observation.

_Yeah. Just a bit more... _Harry didn't reply to Malfoy's taunt, but continued to circle the other boy.

"_Fodio!_" This time, Malfoy shot off a Stinging Jinx, a spell that would not only cause pain, but swelling where it struck.

_Now! _Harry dashed forward, barely dodging the jinx. He slashed his wand outwards at the other boy's feet, then diagonally down, and finally finished with a third slash that drew an imaginary triangle in the air, muttering something unintelligible to make it look as though he was casting a spell.

Then he thought of a flash of green light and a woman's scream.

In one of Harry's bounded field experiments, he practiced with a mild offensive effect; the field itself wouldn't do much until it was activated, and even when it was, the most it did was a slight pressure on whatever was within its boundary. But Harry had put together two pieces of information he had learned recently, atmospheric pressure and the effect of layered bounded fields, and used them right then. With only his wand to direct the boundaries, it wouldn't last very long, but for Harry's purposes, it lasted long enough. The tiny area of effect allowed Harry to raise it very quickly, before Malfoy could cast another spell.

At first, the blonde thought Harry's spell had failed, but when he tried to raise his wand, he found that his hand felt unnaturally heavy, and then realized that his whole body felt the same way. The pressure slowly built up as Harry kept his wand pointed at him, not casting any visible spells, but clearly responsible for what he was experiencing. In the end, his legs couldn't take the strain and he fell to his knees, his wand dropping from leaden fingers as he struggled to draw a breath.

The pressure lightened a little. "Yield." Harry said, trying not to show how relieved he was that his magecraft had worked.

Malfoy strained to raise his head, and met his opponent's green eyes. "... I... yield..." He croaked.

Harry lowered his wand, and rest of the pressure instantly vanished. Approaching, Harry bent over and pulled Malfoy to his feet before Crabbe and Goyle could stop him. "You okay?"

The loser of the duel was panting heavily, his usually perfect hair slightly messy. "...why?" He gasped, "Why are you helping me?"

"Because that's the right thing to do." Harry told him. "Now that that's over, we better-"

"Sniff around, my sweet, someone was definitely here, oh yes." spoke a voice that all the students present in the trophy room recognized.

"Filch!" Neville gasped, causing the rest to pale.

"Let's get out of here." Harry darted over to where Malfoy's wand lay and grabbed it up. "Go! Go! Go!"

The six of them quickly left through the other door in the place, entering a gallery filled with suits of armor in two rows. Harry was at the back, encouraging them in whispers to hurry as he kept glancing back in the direction of Filch's voice. He heard Neville squeak and turned to look, just in time to see the boy break into a run- only to trip and bring down a suit of armor with him in a racket that sounded loud enough to wake the whole castle.

_DAMN! _"RUN!" Harry yelled, knowing it was useless trying to be quiet now.

The six students sprinted down the gallery, banging open the door at the end, and continuing down the corridor in an attempt to evade the caretaker. With a jolt of horror, Harry realized that with him at the back, he would not be able to lead them down the safer ways, and even as he watched, the group split up, Crabbe and Goyle running one way while Hermione and Neville went another. Deciding to side with those he knew, he followed the latter pair, trying to break them out of their panic and get their attention.

By the time they finally calmed down enough to listen, they were somewhere near the Charms classroom, which was quite a great distance from the trophy room.

"Think we... lost him...?" Neville wheezed, already bent double and looking as though he would collapse at any moment.

"I... told... you... I... told... you..." Hermione was in a similarly bad condition, apparently having a stitch.

"We should... we should... be okay..." Malfoy gasped, leaning back against the wall, his hair plastered all over his sweaty forehead.

The three Gryffindors suddenly stopped and turned to look at the odd one out, who looked back at them defiantly.

"What? I came to... get my wand back!" He pointed at Harry, who realized that the wand in his hand wasn't his, but the Slytherin's.

"Sorry. Mine's hawthorn too. I forgot I put it away." He flipped it over to hold it by the tip, and held it out to its owner. "Here."

Scowling, Malfoy took it and tucked it away into his pocket. "You won this time, Potter, but believe me, it won't happen again."

"Anytime, Malfoy." Harry replied coolly.

"Are you two done?" Hermione demanded crossly, having gotten over her stitch. "We need to go, before they catch us!"

The sound of a doorknob rattling made them spin around, only to see something shoot out from the next classroom down. Harry immediately recognized Peeves, who initially seemed surprised to see them, but suddenly started grinning with a malevolent air.

"Wandering around at midnight, are we? Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty! Even you, Potty!"

In spite of himself, Harry slapped a hand over his face at hearing the poltergeist use his name insultingly in a childish rhyme.

"Please don't give us away, Peeves." Hermione begged, looking like she feared getting caught above everything else. "Please." She repeated.

Harry was almost expecting Neville to mess it up right then, but it turned out to be Malfoy this time, who swiped at the poltergeist with a snarled order to get out of the way.

Peeves immediately reared up and bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Once again, Harry was forced to run after the others. _Can this get any more wor-_

_You don't want to finish that thought, Harry. _Archer interrupted him with a warning.

_I don't see you helping! _ Harry retorted, the pressure finally starting to get to him.

The group skidded to a halt in front of a door at the end of the corridor, and Neville tugged at the handle - it was locked.

"Nooo..." He moaned, "We're done for!"

"Oh, move over!" Hermione snarled, shoving him out of the way. She grabbed Malfoy's wand out of the boy's hand and tapped it on the lock. "_Alohomora!_"

The lock clicked and the door sprung open; they quickly dashed through it and shut it behind them, Hermione and Malfoy pressing their ears against it to listen for Filch while Harry Reinforced his own ears to do the same.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" He heard. "Quick, tell me!"

"Say 'please'~" Peeves sing-songed.

"Don't mess with me, Peeves." Filch growled, "Now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please~"

"Alright, 'please'." The caretaker snarled.

"'NOTHING!' AHAHAHAHA! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha Haaaa!"

Harry canceled the Reinforcement as he heard Filch cursing while Peeves sped off somewhere else, and wondered why Neville was yanking on his clothes. Then he realized that Archer was calling him.

_Harry!_

_What! _ Harry snapped, his patience with everything nearly at an end.

_You passed an alarm boundary when you went through this door. _There was a short pause. _This is the third floor, isn't it?_

Harry started to reply, but Neville suddenly jerked him around. "What, Neville! I'm-"

Whatever Harry was going to say was forgotten as the pieces finally fell into place in his mind. Why would there be an alarm boundary? Because this was a place that was being watched. Why was it being watched? Because it was the forbidden third floor corridor that Dumbledore warned the students away from at the start of the year. And why was it forbidden?

Because there was a gigantic three-headed dog in there. The same dog that was now looking back at the four of them, with three pairs of confused but increasingly angry eyes.

It was big enough that it nearly reached the ceiling, and each of the three mouths that were filled with dirty yellow fangs that dripped saliva looked big enough to bite any of them off at the knees in one chomp.

_Oh... Damn it to bloody hell. _Harry whispered in his head as he looked up at the Cerberus.

_Told you you shouldn't have thought that just now. _Archer reminded him.

* * *

(1) Kanshou & Bakuya: Gan Jiang and Mo Ye are twin swords that represent yin and yang, and are the favored weapons of Archer. There's a lot of history Type-Moon wiki can give, but one of the stories I read for myself in a book is about how the blacksmith Gan Jiang was ordered by the emperor to forge the swords out of some mystical metal. The metal refused to melt even after being heated for many days, until Mo Ye sacrificed something to the flames. Since the story I read was for kids, it said that she pulled out her nails and shaved off her hair, but another account says she threw herself into the furnace. Choose the story you want.

Cliffhangers like this are evil! But evil is so deliciously corrupting! Just look at Dark Sakura!

Reading over this chapter, I find that my habit of random writing is spilling over into it a little, but I'm doing my best to control it with material from the actual books. Please let me know how you find it.

So Harry got to see the map. I don't really believe that the twins would have given it to him in his first year; the information stored on the map is vast, and the reason they handed it to canon Harry in fifth year (which has been tied to Manipulative Dumbledore once I've seen) is probably because they finished learning the routes by heart and experience of use. One strong piece of evidence is this: they are currently third years, and can visit Hogsmeade. Don't you think they would try to abuse the map in order to do so on other days as well?

Magecraft in this chapter came from my interpretation of what's on the wiki page (I made sure to follow it as closely as I could), like how bounded fields work. I'd like to ask the question: Do you think bounded fields are all that different from wards? Certain Dead Apostles can create bounded fields that fool even nature, which can be seen as on a different level entirely, and a Reality Marble imposes the caster's reality upon the world around him, with both separated by the boundary and thus in different worlds. A topic worthy of discussion. But not with me, please.

Not entirely sure about the characters' personalities of Hermione and Draco, but I'm claiming a bit of creative liberty.

That's all for now. Review!


	7. Fifth Spell

The three-headed dog was surprised by their sudden appearance, but it was soon getting over the shock and preparing to attack; three sets of lips were pulling back to expose the gums from which the fangs grew, and the thunderous rumbling from its throats didn't sound very favorable to the children.

Harry was still frozen by the shock of seeing such a huge beast up close, but Archer was already reacting. Without Harry's conscious control, Archer could control the boy's body to some extent, and he did so now. The magic circuits they shared burst into full activity, and Archer extended his hands out in front of him as he lowered his center of gravity, fingers curled loosely in preparation to grip the blades he was going to Trace.

He didn't want to show the other children his Tracing, but if it came down to that and letting them die, he would instantly choose the former.

"Get out. Now!" Archer hissed through Harry's mouth, not taking his eyes off the giant dog. _Watch the muscles for the slightest sign of... _Glancing at the legs so he could watch out for the bending that preceded a lunge, Archer noticed the trapdoor beneath its feet.

_Archer? What are you- _Harry had just recovered.

_Not now. _Archer's ears picked up the slight scrap of wood on stone, and quickly backpedaled.

Not nearly quickly enough; the Cerberus charged forward, its middle head opening its jaws to take a bite out of them. If not for Archer's quick reactions, Harry might have been injured, but since the spirit aided him by guiding his hands into the right position to defend against its fangs, all Harry received was a heavy force slamming into him and throwing him head over heels out of the room, crashing into the far wall at a speed that would have cracked the ribs of a normal person.

"Hooghf!" The boy wheezed as the impact drove the air out of his lungs.

Harry glanced up to see the door firmly shut, thankfully sealing him and the other children off from the beast. They could still hear its angry barking and the sound of creaking wood coming from the other side made their blood run cold. Words weren't needed; they all agreed silently on getting out of there as soon as possible, and beat a hasty retreat from the place.

After putting a few corridors between him and the dog's lair, Harry finally calmed down enough to talk to Archer. _We nearly died! That was insane! I can't believe that a three-headed dog was in a place like that!_

_I wouldn't have let you die, Harry, _Archer reassured, _But-_

_Hey wait, where's Malfoy? _Harry interrupted, looking around as he continued to trot after his two Housemates at a more relaxed pace.

_He split off from the group fairly early, probably to head back to his own common room. You didn't notice because you were still too worked up just now._

_Oh. Guess that's fine then. _

They reached the seventh floor in fairly short order, and he could hear the Fat Lady asking the pair where they had been. It wasn't hard to get that question out of her; the three of them looked a sight with their bathrobes hanging loosely after their frenzied escape and their faces flushed and sweaty.

"Never mind - pig snout, pig snout," Hermione gasped out the password, and the portrait swung forward to let them enter.

They dropped into the squashy armchairs, all of them trembling, even Harry with his more sedate attitude. It took a while before any of them was able to say anything out loud, though Harry was busy discussing with Archer about the implications of the Cerberus and Dumbledore's warning at the beginning of the school year. It wasn't difficult to reach the conclusion that the dog was meant to be guarding the thing that Hagrid had taken out from Gringotts, especially when one considered the location of the dog with regards to the trapdoor in the floor.

"Are you happy now, Harry?" Hermione demanded, finally getting her breath and bad temper back. "We nearly got killed tonight - or worse, expelled."

Harry gave her an incredulous look. "Expelled is worse? You need to get your priorities right."

"Excuse ME?" She looked as though she was about to go off into a loud, dormitory-awakening rant. "I'm not the one who-"

"Forget it." Harry stood up and walked over to where Neville sat, the other boy looking terrified enough to never speak again. "That was an unfortunate turn of events. Come on, Neville, let's go back to bed."

The other boy looked up at him with wide, staring eyes, but accepted his offered hand with jerky nods of his head and let Harry pull him up.

He could feel Hermione staring at his back. "Fine!" He heard her huff, "Be that way! I don't care anymore!"

_That girl would try the patience of a saint! _Harry complained as he ascended the stairs.

Archer just kept silent.

Harry made a quick stop by the toilet to wash off the worst of the sweat and clean his hands of the residual dog saliva he had picked up when blocking the Cerberus's attack, before climbing back into bed. A glance over to the side showed Neville already had his hangings drawn, and was probably cowering under his covers. He wished he could do the same and let sleep take him away from the memories of his inadvertent adventure, but the life lessons Archer had imparted to him had taught him not to put some things off, and he felt that this was one of them.

If he had any doubts about what Dumbledore was doing with the third floor corridor, tonight's events had eliminated them entirely. Some facts were very clear with what Harry had pieced together with Archer's assistance: One, Dumbledore was keeping something under guard there, something that Hagrid had removed from Gringotts on the old wizard's orders. Two, Someone else was after it, someone strong enough to break in and out of Gringotts. Three...

Dumbledore was either insane enough to risk a school full of children by keeping it in Hogwarts, or there was some underlying plan that Harry couldn't figure out yet.

_Logically speaking, the item would be under protection, as evidenced by the Cerberus. _Harry nodded to himself as he looked up at the ceiling from his bed. _However, seeing as the vault where it was stored in Gringotts was broken into, the protections here should be far stronger._

_Remember what we learnt about goblin security in the bank? The goblins have some powerful enchantments, goblin guard battalions, some deadly beasts like dragons, and the storage location is in an underground labyrinth. _Archer supplied. _Compared to that, a single Cerberus is hardly..._

Harry voiced what they were both thinking. _The whole thing seems very suspicious when you consider that Dumbledore himself also stated the location of the place, even if he didn't mention the reason._

_It could be fake directions for a trap. _He felt Archer nodding in agreement. _But with the way Dumbledore acts, it could be true for all we know._

_Damn it. I hate this sort of complicated mind games. According to what the books say about him, the old geezer is a very intelligent wizard, but the way he acts is like that of someone the opposite! _Harry griped to the spirit.

_You saw the titles to his name on the Hogwarts letter, Harry. _Archer reminded. _That old man holds several important political positions... I'm more inclined to think he's just concealing his intelligence._

_So what should I do, Archer? _Harry didn't like the dilemma he found himself in. _Report it to the Ministry? Or just shut up about it and hope it plays itself out safely?_

_Harry... _Archer began in a tone Harry knew... and slightly hated.

_I know, I know. I can't always rely on you for help... _Harry sighed loudly, but none of the other boys stirred. _There are other factors I need to know before I can make my decision, _he decided, _the nature of the protections, the strength of the enemy, what else?_

_How about what the item is? _Archer suggested as Harry trailed off in his thinking.

_Why do I need to know that? _

_If you know what it is, you could figure out the other party's intention, and possibly come up with a better solution to defend against it. _

Something about what Archer said rang a bell inside Harry; he had a feeling he encountered this principle of the hero some time previously, but he couldn't recall exactly when. All he could connect to that memory was that it had involved some manner of pain. Or it could be that the memories he had gained from scanning books were just messing with him from his subconscious, Harry guessed.

_There's not much else you can figure out. It would be best if you just went to sleep. _Archer advised.

_Okay... good night, Archer._

_Night, Harry._

* * *

The first thing Harry did after grabbing breakfast early the next morning was to head down to Hagrid's cottage to get some answers out of the friendly giant man. It didn't even take a minute for him to realize that he had forgotten one very important thing: not everyone was an early riser like he was. From where he stood five meters away from the locked wooden door, he could hear the soft rumbling that was Hagrid snoring, occasionally interrupted by a snort.

_Later today then. _Harry thought to himself as he wheeled around and headed back into the castle.

"Hi, Harry!" A call from the side made him look, and he spotted Susan and Hannah entering the Entrance Hall from one of the side doors that went down to the basement. "Just came down for breakfast?" The redhead asked as he waited for them to reach him.

Harry shook his head. "I ate already."

"But you're headed towards the Great Hall." Hannah, a small girl who wore her dirty blond hair in pigtails, pointed out.

"Just came in from a walk around outside," Harry explained, "So now I'm just going to grab myself a drink. And see if I have mail," he added.

"Oh, okay."

He followed the two girls in and to their table, where they talked and complained about the schoolwork the teachers had saddled them with. Harry was immediately reminded of his quill idea from yesterday, and asked one of the Hufflepuff seniors sitting nearby if they had any owl-order catalogues related to magical quills. With Hufflepuffs being Hufflepuffs, Harry soon found himself with six different catalogues in his hands.

"Thanks!" He said, unable to believe just how obliging they could be.

"You're welcome," A friendly-looking teenager with dark hair slapped him on the back in a comradely manner, "It's always nice to help out a younger student."

"Besides," Another senior, this girl looking like a fifth-year at least, added, "Sprout always talks about how you're hardworking and stuff. She actually thinks of you as a honorary Hufflepuff, you know."

Harry was amazed to learn that his hard work at trying to ingratiate himself with the Herbology professor was paying off so well, and when faced with the welcoming attitude of the table's students, he was actually feeling a little touched. With Archer's amused approval pulsing in the back of his mind, Harry felt that he could understand the spirit's personality trait of wanting to help others slightly better.

"If this works, I owe you all one." He promised, and they grinned at him, Susan and Hannah smiling the widest.

"Potter."

Instantly, all the good-natured expressions vanished, and everyone sitting at the Hufflepuff table within earshot sent hard looks at the intruder in their midst: Draco Malfoy standing alone, except for Harry who gave the blonde an expressionless stare. The boy stiffened at being faced with all the animosity, but focused on the white-haired boy sitting in front of him.

He swallowed once, gathering his courage, and spoke. "I would like to talk to you. Privately."

Harry shrugged lightly and stood up. "Okay."

Susan grabbed his arm and stopped him from moving. "Harry! Are you going to follow a _Slytherin_?" She hissed worriedly.

Harry glanced down at where her hand was on his wrist, and gently pulled it off. "I'll be fine. He asked nicely, didn't he?" He said reassuringly.

"But-" Hannah started to say something, but Harry was already walking after Malfoy.

Those in the Great Hall started whispering, people coming up with possible answers about what might be going on, and others twisting those theories into wild and unbelievable rumors for the Hogwarts rumor mill.

In reality, Harry's talk with Draco wasn't anything remotely similar to what most people thought. The moment they were alone in a corridor, the other boy started speaking. And it was about an issue that Harry was expecting, considering how Draco had originally become involved in last night's events.

"Potter, I wish to speak to you regarding the matters of last night."

"Let me guess," Harry spoke with a touch of coolness, "It's about personal pride, isn't it?"

Draco blinked once, then nodded as he understood that Harry knew what he was driving at.

"Did you tell anyone what you were sneaking out for last night?" inquired Harry, casting a quick glance at the portrait nearby.

The other boy noticed, and his expression showed that he forgot that eavesdroppers didn't necessarily have to be people.

"Malfoy?"

"N-no, I didn't." Draco replied shakily, gratitude briefly flashing through his eyes as he looked back at Harry.

"Then we'll just say that we didn't manage to have our... 'debate', before Filch interrupted us. If anyone asks."

"That would satisfy me." Draco agreed.

Harry nodded back. "Good. Then we're done here."

As they took their leave of each other, Draco was the one to call out this time. "Potter!"

Harry looked over his shoulder.

"Next time, I'll show that I'll have the better 'debating' skills!" He didn't wait for Harry to acknowledge his statement, but left quickly after that.

The rest of the morning passed by in a storm of homework as Harry set out on demolishing the heavy pile of it with his group in the library. His group seemed to pick up on his enthusiasm and they followed him in doing the same, making them the recipients of a few shushings from Madam Pince. Still, Harry didn't miss that both Neville and Hermione were acting differently after what they all went through last night; Neville was displaying a level of focus the forgetful boy never had before, as though trying to take in as much information as he could in order to bury the memory of meeting the Cerberus away, while Hermione was completely refusing to speak to or acknowledge Harry in any way, causing him to give up on ever getting through to her. With all of them working together, the work was finished quickly and they spent the time until lunch just chatting about nothing in particular, though Harry also took the time to scan a few books for material he would need later.

"I'm going down to Hagrid's later. Anyone else wants to come with me?"

"We've got compulsory study sessions up in our common room, so no. Sorry, Harry." Su, a petite Asian girl who was the smallest out of all of them, answered for the Ravenclaws.

Harry made sure to take note of that fact: Ravenclaws had compulsory House study sessions on Saturday, and resolved to write it down in one of his notebooks later.

"Didn't we visit him just yesterday, Harry?" Neville asked timidly, but he was frowning slightly as he did.

Harry didn't want to talk about his reasons about paying Hagrid a visit, but seeing how the other students were looking at him curiously, he had no choice but to answer. "I used to have a dream about a flying motorbike being ridden by a large man." He revealed, once more using a valid but unrelated answer to conceal his true motives. "Last night I saw it again," Harry lied, "But it felt like that man was Hagrid. I'm just going to see if it wasn't really a dream after all."

Despite making sure not to look in Hermione's direction, he sensed that the girl had overheard and was looking at him suspiciously. Neville looked like he only half-believed Harry's excuse, but didn't say anything further. All three of them had learnt of Hagrid's fascination with big and dangerous creatures, and they had just encountered one last night. In the end, with the Ravenclaws out and the Slytherins refusing due to having to keep up appearances (Harry didn't think someone like Daphne would even like a place like Hagrid's rustic cottage), only Susan, Hannah, and Justin, a curly brown-haired boy born to non-magical parents, volunteered to come, since of the Gryffindors, Neville was going to Diagon Alley with Ron to get new wands while there was no point in even asking Hermione.

This time, he managed to find Hagrid awake, and sitting outside making some kind of snare that looked as though it was meant to catch a horse instead of a rabbit.

"Oh, hello, Harry!" The big man greeted him when he walked up, his companions hanging back and casting nervous looks at Fang. "And who're yer friends?"

"These are Justin, Susan, and Hannah." Harry introduced, grabbing the dog's collar to prevent it from jumping onto him. "Don't be afraid of the dog, guys. It's harmless."

"Doesn't look like it." He heard Hannah mutter, but approached with the other two Hufflepuffs anyway.

"Name's Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of the Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts." Hagrid told the three students, completing the round of introductions. "Rarely see Puffs like yeh coming ter visit."

Harry could see why; for all of Hagrid's kindheartedness, being twice the height of most adult men and sporting a wild, shaggy beard didn't exactly endear him to young children at first glance. It didn't help matters to have Fang hang around him, since any sane human had an instinctual fear of big, fierce-looking dogs. Only Gryffindors would be daring enough (_Or stupid enough_, Harry decided) to attempt an approach first.

The four of them took seats facing Hagrid, who poured them all tea while apologizing for not having any of his cakes waiting for them to eat. Harry gave the Hufflepuffs a look that said 'See, told you he's harmless', and they looked at each other slightly guiltily before trying harder to get to know the gentle giant without letting their fear get the better of them.

"Hagrid?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"You told me that you once took me from Godric's Hollow after Voldemort-"

Hagrid spilled tea over himself, Susan and Hannah squeaked, while Justin just looked confused at their reactions. "Don't say the name, Harry!" Hagrid growled, wiping up the spilled liquid with a tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

"Sorry," The boy patted his black fringe down over his scar and apologized, not sounding the least bit sorry, "But from the maps I've seen, Godric's Hollow is a huge distance away from Surrey. How did you get me all the way there?"

"Oh, I flew, o' course." Hagrid chuckled.

"On a broom?" Hannah asked disbelievingly.

"No, had a motorbike. Borrowed it off from Sirius Black-" Hagrid suddenly stopped, looking very angry.

"Si-Si-Sirius Black?" Susan squeaked, as the other two Puffs shrank back from the giant's fierce countenance.

_Doesn't sound like this Sirius Black is on Hagrid's Christmas list. _Harry commented to Archer.

_Another person to look into. _The spirit agreed.

"I shouldn't have said that." The giant man said in a soft, gruff voice. "Filthy, stinking turncoat!" He muttered in what was meant to be under his breath, but was loud enough for the children to hear.

_Ah, a traitor, perhaps. _Harry realized, but changed the subject. "So that means my dream wasn't really a dream after all."

Hagrid looked almost pleased to have the topic turned away from what was clearly a sore issue with him. "What dream is this, eh?"

"A flying motorbike." Harry said casually.

"Oh." The relief transformed back into grumpiness as Hagrid realized that the topic had only been diverted slightly. "Yeah, it flies."

"Wow!" Justin looked excited. "Do you still have it?"

"'Course I do. Got it stashed in a shed somewhere-"

"But that motorbike's illegal!" Susan interrupted, "There's a Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department - they deal with Muggle artifacts that aren't supposed to be enchanted!"

"Oh, errr..." Hagrid's dark eyes darted around shiftily. "Couldn't, couldn't yeh forget that yeh heard me say that?" He asked desperately.

"But I'm not surprised," Susan continued, "Seeing as that motorbike belongs to-"

"SHHH!" Hagrid hissed loudly, sounding like a whistling kettle and shocking the small redhead into silence. "Not here!" He glanced at Harry, who raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Harry examined the situation and thought to himself that he needed to change the subject. "Well, I wouldn't mind taking a look at that motorbike myself. Fixed a few of them myself, actually."

"You fixed a few bikes? You can fix bikes?" Justin sounded like he was trying to decide between feeling impressed with Harry or suspicious about whether Harry was telling the truth.

Harry nodded. "It leaves me quite dirty by the end of the day, but it's fun seeing how every bit of the machinery works together. Saved my neighbors quite a lot of money, actually." _Structural Analysis is so useful._

The other boy finally settled on impressed. "I've wanted to ride a few of them, myself." He confided to an understanding Harry.

The other three looked like they didn't understand what had gotten into the pair of boys, but Susan was finally persuaded into keeping Hagrid's secret after both Harry and Justin started pleading with her not to do so. Just as Hannah started looking like she wanted to leave as Hagrid began talking about how it was like raising Fang, the white-haired boy decided to finally ask about the real topic that had brought him down to the hut in the first place.

"You know, Hagrid," Harry started out casually, petting Fang as the boarhound drooled on his knee, "I was walking around exploring Hogwarts yesterday when I heard a dog barking. You didn't happen to bring Fang up to the castle, did you?"

"O' course not," The giant said dismissively, "That's just Fluffy-"

_Bingo. _Harry thought to himself as Hagrid stopped speaking for the second time that conversation. _Looks like my guess that the Cerberus being connected to the one person who would care for it is correct._

"What? Who's Fluffy? Another one of your dogs?" Hannah asked curiously as the other two stared at their giant host with the same curious expression.

"Yeah, he's mine." Hagrid replied shortly. "Now don't yeh ask me anymore about him."

"Bet he's like Fang." Justin pushed the slobbering jaws away with a look of disgust. "Super friendly and all..."

"If anything, that dog sounded a little cooped up." Harry said with faked thoughtfulness.

"Now, listen to me, you lot," Hagrid began, but Susan overrode him.

"Where did you hear the dog, Harry?" asked the red-haired girl.

"Third floor."

"Third-" Hannah broke off and looked disapprovingly at the giant man, who looked very uncomfortable now. "Hagrid? That dog... isn't the reason why the Headmaster warned us away from that corridor, is it?"

Hagrid's expression seemed to indicate he was thinking hard, and he eventually spoke after a while. "Yeah. Fluffy's mine - he's a guard dog. Now, you forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin'. It's too dangerous for yeh to be meddlin' in it."

"Alright." Harry recognized that it was too risky to probe any further, and decided to just leave things as they were for now. _Only Justin looks remotely interested anyway... _

As the four students left to return to the school, Harry decided to ask Susan about Sirius Black. "Who's Sirius Black?"

The girl looked extremely uncomfortable at being asked that question. "He's... well... err..."

"Just spit it out."

Susan seemed to swell up slightly, before sighing and saying, "He's a Dark Wizard. He's in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Justin interrupted.

Hannah provided the explanation. "It's the wizarding prison. There are horror stories about that place."

Justin snickered, though Harry didn't. "Yeah, Muggle prisons have their own share of horror stories too." The boy said as he brushed a strand of his curly hair out of his eyes.

"Not like Azkaban, Justin." Susan said grimly. "The reason Azkaban is so bad is because of the Dementors there."

"Dementors?"

Harry knew what Dementors were, having 'read' a great deal of the books in Hogwarts Library, but Justin wouldn't as the first-year textbooks didn't deal with that sort of stuff. He listened to Susan talk about how her aunt had told her about the Dark creatures that the Ministry used to guard Azkaban, and about how they not only drained a person of any positive emotion, but forced that person to relive his worst memories as well. She even mentioned about how some Dementors were used to perform executions through the means of the Dementor's Kiss, which sucked the soul out of the victim and left them in a state worse than death. The entire account left Justin shivering slightly, especially since both he and Harry could tell that Susan was being totally serious.

"So what else about Sirius Black besides the fact that he's in Azkaban?"

"I don't really know... but I've heard Auntie talking about how he killed ten Muggles with a single curse."

"That's powerful!" Justin had sickened awe in his voice.

"That's evil!" Hannah retorted. "He killed them! All those lives, wiped out!"

Harry didn't say anything, choosing to consult the presence in his mind instead. _Archer? It doesn't seem to add up. Why would Hagrid borrow Sirius Black's motorbike if he hated that man?_

_Hagrid said that Sirius Black was a turncoat. A traitor. _

_So he must have fought against Voldemort, _Harry deduced, _Or pretended to. Then he got found out... still too many questions, I need to know more. _

He could feel Archer's silent agreement. Perhaps it was time for Harry to start looking into the back issues of the Daily Prophet.

He followed the Hufflepuffs without really thinking, going downstairs into the basement before Hannah finally noticed.

"Uh, Harry? Your common room is the other way, isn't it?"

"Huh?" He looked around, finally realizing he was underground. "Oh. Oops."

_Pay attention, Harry. _Archer chided.

A grumble from Harry's stomach made the other three grin. "Guess he's too hungry to think properly!" Justin joked.

Hannah sniffed the air, holding her stomach. "Me too. I can smell food in the air. The older students always said that the kitchens were nearby."

"Kitchens?" Harry repeated.

"Where do you think food comes from, Harry? We certainly don't magic it out of thin air. It's against Gamp's Law of Transfiguration." Susan pointed out.

"No, it's not that." He replied absently, as he took a few sniffs himself to try and locate the source. _It's that same prana smell... _

Harry simply missed cooking. As a student, he didn't really have to do much to take care of himself, since the house elves handled it; meal preparation, laundry, making the bed, some cleaning (Filch handled part of it, but one man definitely couldn't clean the whole castle by himself), all of those were handled by what a senior referred to as a house elf. As such, he hadn't had the chance to practice his cooking for over three weeks, and was realizing just how soothing the activity had become for him. Practicing his archery was one thing, but cooking went beyond it.

Regarding house elves, Harry had yet to see one of them in his time here, but he always picked up that strange prana whenever one of them had supposedly passed by. The books that discussed them were infected with biasness, so Harry didn't really trust what information he had. Surely they couldn't be so short and spindly with oversized head and eyes...

"Harry? What are you doing?" Susan's voice intruded into his thoughts.

The white-haired boy caught himself and looked back to find Justin, Susan and Hannah giving him odd looks. Glancing around, he realized that he had been walking unconsciously in his efforts to follow the scent to its source, and was now standing in front of a large painting of a silver fruit bowl, one of the many that lined the brightly lit stone corridor they were in, all depicting food dishes that looked so real a student could be fooled into thinking that they were the source of the smell of cooking food. Instead of answering, he sniffed again, confirming that the prana he had been smelling was linked to the painting; it was definitely hiding a secret entrance. With most paintings of that type, there was usually a password involved. But this was the first painting Harry had encountered that did not have a character to give a password to.

"Harry, answer us. You're starting to make us worried."

"The kitchen is through this painting." Harry said, glancing back at the trio.

"How do you know?" Justin wanted to know.

"Followed the smell of food."

He thought he heard a snort of laughter from them at learning that Harry Potter had a dog's nose for food when he was hungry, but the boy chose to ignore it in favor of analyzing the portrait. As he had surmised, there were hinges behind, on the left side, which gave it its purpose as a secret door. The question of how to open it was answered by the reactive Transfiguration spell on the surface of the painting, the one that focused on the green pear. Now he just had to figure out how to trigger it.

"Seriously, Harry, I don't think that the kitchens are through that painting." Hannah said, but he ignored her.

_Okay... I don't know much about keyed spells, but this doesn't fit the usual mode. Have to go deeper than that... _Harry blinked. _What's this... multiple residues of finger oil... _"That's it!" He exclaimed.

"What?"

Harry reached up and poked at the pear. It twitched. Raising one eyebrow, he wiggled his finger, tickling it. The act caused the pear to squirm around, actually chuckling, then it suddenly transformed into a large door handle of the same color. Turning his head to smirk at the shocked looks on the other three, Harry grabbed the handle and pulled it open, letting the smell of cooking food wash out into the corridor.

The first thing he noticed about the place was that it was huge, matching the Great Hall in size. And that wasn't all that was similar; five long tables stood out proudly, in the same arrangement as the House and teachers' tables. At the other end from where Harry had entered, there was a great brick fireplace, and stacked up in glittering piles all along the walls were brass pots and pans of various sizes, hiding stoves, ovens and ingredient preparation areas behind them. But what caught and held Harry's attention were the short beings that had stopped to look at Harry's entrance. There were quite a large number of them, at least a hundred, and they didn't wear clothes, but what looked like a tea towel with the Hogwarts crest, tied to resemble a toga.

_Short, spindly limbs, oversized bald head and eyes, floppy ears. _Archer made the observation with a brief touch of interest. _The book was right after all._

"Can wes be helping yous, young sir?" One of the house elves stepped forward, bowing low but taking peeks at Harry as he spoke in a squeaky voice. "We is busy making dinner for all the students!"

"Blimey heck." Justin whispered as he entered after Harry. "I knew the kitchens were close, but not this close...!"

"Is sirs and misses be wanting food?" The elf inquired, his large, bulbous eyes flicking around Harry and his companions.

"Justin," Harry said over his shoulder as the two girls joined the boys in the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind them, "How long is it till dinner?"

The boy checked his watch. "About an hour."

"We'll spoil our appetite if we eat anything now." Susan said firmly. "And we shouldn't be bothering them while they work."

"'Tis no problem, miss!" Another elf cried out from among the crowd. "We is able to handle extra work!"

"Any of you feel too hungry to last until dinner without a snack?" Harry asked, still not taking his eyes off the stoves.

"Me." Justin volunteered.

Smiles suddenly blossomed on the faces of the house elves, and they sprang into action; those who had paused in mid-chore continued about their tasks of preparing the Hogwarts' dinner, while the elf that had first greeted Harry dashed off only to return in short order with two others, bearing a tray with éclairs and a tea set for the four students.

"Thanks!" Justin said, sounding impressed.

As he took in the sight of the house elves beam and bow in response to Justin's reaction, Harry recalled how the Hufflepuffs were so willing and friendly, and compared them to the beings that inhabited the kitchens of Hogwarts. _It's like that emotion was distilled and purified in order to get these house elves. _

_Indeed. _Archer shared his sentiment. _But more importantly..._

_More importantly... _Harry echoed. "Well, we'll just have a quick tea and then we'll be off, won't we?"

It was actually a ruse for Harry to shoo the other three out of the kitchens, with the white-haired boy staying back to explore for a while longer while the others returned to their common room, citing his skill at navigating Hogwarts' secret passages as a way for him to return quicker than most could. But when he turned around to look at the house elves as the painting swung shut, the look on his face sent shivers down the spine of all those who were watching.

"Now..." Harry said with a wide grin on his face, "What's it going to take to let me borrow the use of the kitchen?"

Gryffindor table wondered why their food came later than usual compared to the other three Houses that night, but their impatience soon vanished when they tasted the new dishes and found them to be much more delicious than before. All the Gryffindors agreed that Harry Potter had been unlucky in missing out on the food, but the boy simply smiled beatifically whenever someone brought it up. When the Weasley twins went down later that night to uncover the reason why, all they found was a mixed bunch of elves that seemed torn between annoyance and admiration.

* * *

"Excuse me?" Harry said in disbelief. "You want me to be _what_?"

"I want you to be the Gryffindor Seeker." Professor McGonagall repeated her earlier words.

"Professor, I know that my flying skills are good, but surely there has to be someone else who's better at filling that role." He protested, not wanting to lose more of the free time he could spend on exploration, scanning or practicing his magecraft. But most importantly, uncovering the hidden truths in his life.

"There isn't." The burly fifth-year boy with them interrupted.

In the most recent flying class, Madam Hooch had put them into flying certain patterns to test their control of their brooms, with the recommendation to their respective House Quidditch teams should they do well. And Harry had outperformed everyone else when all he had done was simply lose himself in the thrill of flying. Word spread from student to student, student to teacher, teacher to teacher, and eventually got back to McGonagall, who sought out her Quidditch team captain, and Oliver Wood, said Quidditch team captain. It was the very same pair that had interrupted Flitwick's class to pull Harry out so they could talk him into joining the team. As for Harry, he was feeling rather flabbergasted about the whole situation.

"What about the first year rule?" argued Harry, trying to ignore Oliver Wood as the older boy walked around him muttering about his build with regards to the sort of broom that would fit Harry while staring at the younger boy.

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore to see if we can bend it." Professor McGonagall peered over her glasses at Harry. "We need a better team than last year - _flattened_ in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the eye for weeks..."

If Harry wasn't mistaken, he was reading something like desperate hope in that look. _She's a Quidditch fanatic, isn't she... _He realized with a mental groan.

_That's right, _Archer confirmed,_ And so is that Wood person._

Harry gave up. "Alright, fine."

Word got around almost immediately when Wood's bragging to the twins had been overheard; Harry Potter had just become the newest Gryffindor Seeker. For his part, Harry was annoyed that he would now have even less time to himself once the broom ordered for him arrived, especially since after the twins told him that they trained three times a week on average last year. He didn't care much for being the youngest House player in a century, nor did he care about the fact that McGonagall herself had invited him to join, and he certainly didn't care for some of the rumors that had sprung up around his joining.

"Heard Gryffindor was so short on people who could actually fly that they had to ask a first year..." He heard the audible mutter from a group of Slytherins as he walked past.

Harry rolled his eyes. _Really, what are they trying to accomplish?_

_Psychological warfare. _Archer explained. _They're trying to affect your mental state and make you question your decision._

Harry snorted. _What decision? I was coerced into it._

"Harry, you missed another amazing meal tonight!" Ron came running up. "The food was so bloody delicious I couldn't stop eating!"

Harry didn't reply. He was staring at the food stains on the redhead's robes, and some crumbs still staining the boy's lips with mild disgust.

"It's true." Dean confirmed as the dark-skinned boy came up behind Ron. "We had to drag him away from the table."

"Wood and the twins were looking for you," added Seamus, who moved nearly everywhere with Dean, "They were talking about how we couldn't have Gryffindor's pre-victory meal without the star seeker."

"Bet that must have really annoyed Snape." Harry deadpanned, not regretting his decision to escape to his haven of cooking in order to avoid all that. "Go wash up, Ron. McGonagall's gonna take points off you if she catches you like that." He quickly left for the library before the redhead could return and chatter his ear off about Quidditch.

Ever since Harry had made the Quidditch team, Severus Snape's dislike for Harry had multiplied. Every Potions lesson with the vampire-like man always saw Harry lose at least ten points for all sorts of minor infractions that he let his Slytherin students get away with, making the other Gryffindors complain about his unfairness (even Hermione), while Harry simply sighed and quashed his anger as the man continued to act childishly with his grudge. Snape seemed to realize that Harry wasn't going to lose his temper anytime soon, and had recently taken to stalking Harry around as though hoping to catch him breaking the rules so he could take more points. Harry turned the tables on the older man by hanging around with Daphne and Tracey more, getting his own brand of satisfaction from seeing Snape's features twist into an ugly mask when he saw them joking around. Who knew that the man's face could turn such amazing shades of red and purple?

Acting in a similar manner was Draco Malfoy, who once again started giving Harry looks of envy and dislike. Harry's interaction with Daphne enabled him to find out that the blonde had tried to use his father's influence to get the rule bent for him as well, only to have Dumbledore refuse it. While Harry didn't really care either way, he thought that it was more than a little biased against the House of Snakes, and went out of his way not to make it sound like he was boasting about his new status on the team. The last thing he needed was someone calling him out because he acted all haughty.

His group initially treated him with something akin to awe, but Harry made clear his feelings on the whole issue, and they eventually went back to treating him normally. Mostly, since Harry still continued to read ahead on subjects that was clearly above their level in his quest to learn.

_So the skeletal horses I saw are Thestrals, and they can only be seen by someone who has seen death. Since you have seen your share of it, while I haven't seen any, and our minds are linked, I can only see flashes of them. _Harry set aside the book on magical creatures and rubbed his eyes, having finally found information on the strange beasts he saw pulling the carriages on his first day.

_Interesting animal. What sort of magic grants it that ability, I wonder?_

_Their connection to death has led wizards to claim that Thestrals are bad omens, and thus no one dares to investigate. _Harry made a face as he got up to put the books back into their original locations. _Besides, I'm not going to handle them until sixth year at least. And that's only if I take Care of Magical Creatures as an elective in my third year._

Harry had encountered so many wondrous accounts of magic and magical creatures in the tomes of Hogwarts Library that the thrill was actually starting to decline for him. Despite being in a school of magic, it was a little depressing to be allowed only to perform small spells (Harry ignored that rule to a certain degree when he practiced alone). Still, compared to Archer's colorful description of what happened to a magus who overtaxed his magic circuits, Harry was very sure he could handle a little bit of boredom.

His foster parents had written back that they were proud of his ability to juggle so many things at once; studies, magic, exploring, networking, and now sports, Harry was becoming something of a legend for his actions, and he had heard some people wonder if he would have been top student instead of Hermione if he focused only on his studies.

_And it looks like she keeps getting more and more stressed out. _Harry glanced over at the girl, who met his eyes once before looking away with a disdainful sniff. He sighed and decided to think about something else instead. _Archer..._

_Yes? _The spirit in his mind answered immediately, always watching through Harry's eyes.

_Back when I had the duel with Malfoy, you mentioned a curse that I could use. A curse that your circuits aren't suited for. _Harry paused as he wondered if it was okay to ask any further. _What is that curse? Why wouldn't you teach it to me?_

_The curse itself isn't really that dangerous, it was something else. _Archer answered cryptically. _As for your first question, the curse is Scandinavian in origin, and it's a simple curse that decreases the target's physical health._

Harry felt a bit of excitement at learning a new spell that his books didn't contain. _That sounds like a simple curse._

_Because it is. It's called Gandr. _

Harry blinked as an image from Archer's memory flashed through his mind. A girl dressed in red and black, with a lock of her back-length black hair tied up on either side of her head, was in mid-jump with the index finger of her right hand extended to form a finger gun. On the tip of that finger, a ball of black light grew in size before launching itself outwards to crash into what looked like a wall of living flesh, causing the place it struck to rupture and leak some liquid too dark to be blood.

_What was that? _Harry demanded.

_Fin Shot. It's a term given to a Gandr that has so much prana packed into it that it becomes capable of inflicting physical harm._

_That's not what I was referring to. What was that thing she was shooting at?_

Archer didn't reply right away. _...it was a cursed existence. Thankfully it no longer exists in my world. And hopefully it never will in yours. _

Harry shivered at the hero's grim tone, and decided not to ask any further. _I'll just go look in the books to see if I can find a similar curse. _

He failed to find any. Everything seemed to involve extravagant effects like rupturing skin, causing boils, or multiple cuts, but there was nothing like the Gandr curse in any of the books, basic or advanced. The only books he had left to look through were those in the Restricted Section, which he still had no way of getting to, but somehow he doubted he would find it there. Hogwarts Library might have been one of the biggest known collection of magical books, but it did not mean that it had everything. Harry had noticed that most of the authors he had encountered in his scanning came from central Europe with only a few books from foreign places like Asia or the United States of America, and Archer did say that the curse came from Scandinavia. There was the option of trying to create the spell himself, but Archer deemed it too risky after reading all those accounts of how spells could backfire. Walking with death as a magus was one thing, purposely testing the line was another; he might not even make it to St. Mungo's if he went too far.

_Let's shelve it aside for now until I learn more about magic. _Harry turned his attention to the three quills he had taken out from his bag, recently purchased through owl order from a quill shop.

_I'm not going to assist you on this, Harry. _Archer told him for the umpteenth time that day. _You're just cheating yourself._

_I know already. But it's not really cheating... it's called being smart._

Besides the normal quills every wizard or witch wrote with, there were some enchanted ones that people could use. The most common magic quill was the dictation quill, which usually translated the sounds it received into words on parchment, though some could transcribe written text from other sources; the cheap ones would write indiscriminately and not always correctly, but the expensive ones with the more complex enchantments were able to distinguish between separate people in a single conversation or even focus on one person entirely, and made no mistakes whatsoever. There were also self-inking quills, which siphoned ink straight from the bottle they were linked to in the manner of normal pens, thus omitting the need for ink blotters as there was no chance of smudging. Other magic quills focused on enchanting the ink instead; like an auto-correcting quill that could rearrange or alter letters on a completed word so that it would be spelled correctly in accordance to the magical dictionary it was connected to, and in the more expensive cases, extending the effect to correct grammar and punctuation in entire sentences. The latter types were much more expensive compared to the former due to the difficulty of the enchantments that was involved in their construction, and after buying over thirty different magic quills, Harry's bank vault (from which the cost was directly drawn) was greatly lessened.

But it was paying off; with the help of Structural Analysis, books, senior students (mostly Hufflepuffs who were always willing to help for nothing but thanks), and the occasional consultation with Flitwick over the past week, Harry had figured out how to cast and alter the enchantments on normal quills, to the point he could manufacture any single one type at high quality with only his wand and a normal quill, usually from a magical bird since the enchantments lasted longer in those cases due to affinities of magic playing a role. Already he had made back more than half of his investment by selling his own self-enchanted quills or fixing broken ones for the senior students who had more work to do, hardly taking any time as all it took on average was a few minutes' work of waving his wand and muttering the proper spells, which he usually did at night once everyone else was asleep. It helped greatly that he had researched into improving the efficiency and duration of his spells through perfecting wand movement and incantation, and more than once he heard one of his customers tell him he could go into the quill-making business after leaving Hogwarts.

However, making those quills was only a step towards his real goal: to craft a quill that could write the assignments he had no interest in. Getting more information was fine with him, but having to explain that usually suspicious information (mainly History of Magic) in the form of an essay that did nothing but make Harry irritable due to mental and physical stress (mostly in the wrist) was something that he really disliked. He already had the notes; all that was left was to coach it into the proper form that would satisfy the relevant professor. The quill he envisioned would absorb the point-form information read out by the user like a dictating quill did, but write it out in proper paragraphs and sentences due to the auto-correcting enchantment, and it would do so in a clean manner with the effect of the self-inking spell. The initial step was easy; all he had to do was learn through imitation, but trying to combine them was much harder. So far his attempts to meld the enchantments together failed to work the way he was hoping as the combination of spells and the magical birds' quills always resulted in a clash that disrupted the entire spell structure, but today, he was going to try something different. The three different quills in front of him were originally unenchanted until he had added the spells,

_If the magic won't work together, then how about the physical? _Harry's non-magical learning was paying off yet again. _Sometimes, it's okay to follow the physical laws of nature instead of trying to impose one's will on it. I could piece the enchantments together like a puzzle if I force them, but what if I piece their physical effects together instead?_

"Harry? What are you doing?" He heard someone ask, but Harry wasn't really paying attention.

He took out the knife they used for Potions, properly cleaned, and cut up the quills to the gasps of his audience. From the dictation quill, he took the grey center, the auto-correcting quill, the red top, and the self-inking quill, the blue nib. Harry could still detect the enchantments on each part even after the vessels were damaged; he switched the knife out for his wand and modified the spells with a few deft flicks and practiced twists, before putting the three parts together and using Spello-tape to affix them together in the form of an odd patchwork quill. He then put away his wand and laid out a piece of parchment on the table in front of him, and placed the quill point down on top of it after dipping the nib in his ink bottle, where it stood balancing upright waiting for him to speak.

Harry took out his History of Magic notes, and started to read. "Emeric the Evil. Born Middle Ages. Aggressive Dark Wizard. Terrorized southern England. Slain by Egbert the Egregious. Ferocious duel."

On the parchment, the quill started to move quickly, leaving crisp writing in its path. _**Emeric the Evil was born in the Middle Ages. He was an aggressive individual, a Dark Wizard who terrorized the south of England in his time. He met his death at the end of Egbert the Egregious's wand, at the conclusion of a ferocious duel with the skilled latter.**_

Daphne reached out and grabbed the parchment out from under the quill after Harry stopped reading, scanning the short paragraph with her eyes. She traced a finger across the words, before checking its tip for ink marks; there were none. "Merlin's ghost, Harry. What did you just create?" She whispered in amazement, staring at him with her ice blue eyes.

Harry grinned at her as he felt Archer's grudging approval for making his idea work. "I think I'll call it an Assignment Quill." (1)

He didn't recognize it yet, but he had found a way to raise his reputation in school for the purposes of his plan. The teachers may not have approved of his creation, but the students would sing his praises for it.

* * *

One morning, when Ilya came by with yet another load of blank notebooks for Harry, the snowy owl found her owner in the center of attention with one hand over his face, his entire posture screaming of slight annoyance as the other hand held a long, thin package. She hovered in the air for a moment, before dropping down and landing onto his shoulder where she could run her beak through his hair in a comforting manner, the package in her claws resting on his chest.

"Thanks, Ilya." Harry muttered, standing up and leaving the Great Hall with the bird still riding on him.

_Very obvious that it's a broomstick, isn't it? _Harry spoke in his mind as he headed back to his dormitory holding the note that had accompanied the package in his hand. _She says she doesn't want everybody to know, but I think it's too late for that._

Inside him, Archer nodded. _We do know that wizards on the whole lack common sense in some way._

_Seven o'clock training tonight... _Harry thought back grimly.

Still, when he saw the broomstick for the first time, Harry thought that maybe having a broomstick wasn't so bad after all, if it meant handling high-quality work like it. Even to his analysis, the flying item was extremely well-crafted; from the sleek, well-polished mahogany handle, to the neatly straight tail of twigs, the Nimbus Two Thousand was a work of art that appeared to be waiting to be used.

When seven o'clock came, Harry was already on the school's Quidditch pitch, familiarizing himself with the broom's controls as he flew in random patterns on instinct as he imagined himself in a flying battle against multiple opponents, darting around one of the two sets of three raised hoops that stood on opposite ends of the field. It reacted to his slightest touch or shift, yet retained precise control in its responses, allowing Harry to make all sorts of maneuvers without having to worry about losing control and crashing. If he did, well... he had Archer and Reinforcement.

"Hey, Potter! Come on down!" He heard Wood's voice calling him from across the pitch.

Harry went into a high-speed dive and came out of it near the ground, shooting across the field with his feet barely two inches above the grass towards the other boy, who had dropped the large wooden crate he was carrying onto his foot, but was ignoring it in favor of staring at Harry with his mouth open.

"A Wronski Feint..." Wood breathed.

"A what?" Harry asked as he dismounted.

"You just did a Wronski Feint! A professional Seeker move!" The burly teenager appeared to be on the verge of bouncing in joy. "You really are a natural!"

"Uh... huh." Harry deadpanned. _Guess I need to read up on Quidditch a bit more... or I could ask Ron Weasley, that guy's a huge Quidditch fanatic who knows nearly everything about the sport._

As Harry watched, Wood tried to bounce on his feet, only to collapse clutching his injured foot when his brain finally registered the pain. Eventually, he recovered enough to open the crate he had brought with him, and showed Harry the four balls that were used in every Quidditch match.

"Okay..." Wood winced as his foot shifted again. "Quidditch is easy enough to understand-"

"Three Chasers, score with the Quaffle through the hoops for ten points." Harry interrupted as he pointed at the soccer ball-sized red sphere in the crate, having read up on the basic rules and gameplay. "Keeper guards the hoops to prevent opposing Chasers from scoring."

"Yes, that's it. I'm the Keeper for the team." Wood nodded, smiling happily. "Then there are the Beaters-"

"Who use their bats to defend or attack by hitting the Bludgers." Harry completed, pointing at the two black balls that were straining against the straps that held them down in their space inside the crate. "Bludgers fly around trying to knock players off their broom."

"Excellent! You really know your stuff." Wood's eyes were glittering with glee as he watched Harry closely. "Then there's you, the Seeker-"

"Catches the Golden Snitch," Harry pointed at the final ball, a small bright golden ball the size of a walnut. "Ends the game with an extra hundred and fifty points."

"That's the gist of it." Wood nodded, and pulled out a Beater's short black bat. "Want to get a taste of what to expect from a Bludger?"

Harry stared at the older boy incredulously.

"I'm not asking you to get hit by one." Wood said hastily, and handed the bat over to him. "Just get a feel for their speed."

Harry nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Stand back." Wood instructed Harry as he bent down to free one of the Bludgers.

The black ball immediately shot out of the crate and altered its direction to come straight towards Harry, who ducked instinctively. Looking behind him, he saw the ball make a wide turn to come back for him.

_You don't need Reinforcement for this. _Archer told him, and Harry nodded determinedly.

He gripped the bat with both hands and readied himself, planting his feet firmly and taking a swing where he judged the Bludger would be. The impact made his hands sting momentarily, but the ball went zigzagging in the direction he knocked it towards, before it recovered once more for another attack. But this time, Harry tossed away the bat and Reinforced himself just to be on the safe side, extending his hands out in the manner of a basketball player.

"Harry!" Wood exclaimed from behind him.

"I've got this!" Harry shouted back, just as the Bludger came flying in.

He caught it firmly between his hands, pressing it from above and below as his arms absorbed the shock of its attack, his feet stepping back to counter the momentum in a realistic manner that would conceal his Reinforcement. It left him standing three steps back from his original position, but the ball was safely ensconced between his hands and body.

Wood whistled appreciatively. "That's a nice catch. What do you think of it?"

Harry considered what he had felt from the ball. "It'll break a bone if it hits in the right way." Harry said thoughtfully as he walked back over to the crate to put the Bludger back in. "But mostly it'll just leave a painful bruise."

"That's right. Now, just a word of advice to Gryffindor's newest Seeker. You're going to get fouled a lot because of the points the Snitch is worth, and because of its speed, you'll be weaving around just about everything in the field - Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, even the Quaffle." Wood pulled out a bag of golf balls (Ordinary, Harry analyzed). "You need to react fast in order to nab the Snitch, but since it's too late to practice with the Snitch, we'll start you off with these."

It was a simple exercise; Wood threw the golf balls around, and Harry swooped in to catch all of them easily. At the end of the practice, when it was too dark to continue any further, the teenager was delighted with the prospects of his new team member.

"The Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year!" Wood said happily as they trudged back to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley. He could have played for England if he hadn't run off chasing dragons."

"Uh huh." Harry replied absently.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Wood suddenly spoke, "We'll be training three times a week to get you up to speed." He didn't realize that Harry had stopped walking behind him.

_Damn it. _Harry ground out to Archer's laughter in his head.

With the added drain on his time, Harry barely managed anything new with his research into the hidden truths by the time the end of Harry's second month at Hogwarts arrived. He had yet to find anything on Sirius Black, apart from the fact that Black, a Gryffindor, was from a Pureblood family of Dark Wizards who all went into Slytherin except for him, and that he was a prankster who often disrupted classes. Something about the second fact seemed like it could be important, but none of the teachers were particularly inclined to talk about Sirius Black, most of all Severus Snape, who snarled fiercely enough to scare away every other younger student within earshot when he overheard Black's name. His magecraft was progressing nicely, and he managed to Trace a Kanshou and Bakuya that Archer approved of, even if the boy couldn't use them in the same manner as the hero. As for his studies, his Assignment Quill worked perfectly in taking off the worst of his workload in writing essays, giving him the freedom to work on his non-magical subjects, which he absorbed quickly with Archer's help and explanations. But it still wasn't a walk in the park.

He met the Gryffindor Chasers, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell, found out that the Weasley twins were the Beaters for the team, and witnessed their skills at the game. His presence seemed to encourage the entire team, especially after they saw him fly during trainings, and he managed to get them to join his study group occasionally. With over twelve members, it was getting hard to stay on Madam Pince's good side when they were all in the library at the same time, and Harry was starting to think he needed a place where they could all use.

Harry woke up on Halloween morning to find the smell of baking pumpkin filling the corridors; he didn't really mind pumpkin as a food, but it's hard to like eating something that you hate drinking. It didn't help that today was the day his parents died, and despite the cheer the rest of the students seemed to have, Harry's mood just grew increasingly darker as the day went on. During Charms class, Professor Flitwick paired them up to finally try making things fly, something that all the students were looking forward to after he made Trevor zoom around the classroom, and Harry was paired with Neville, while Ron was to be working with Hermione. The two boys' performances had improved after they had gotten their new wands, but they were still far from good and needed lots of practice. Since Harry and Hermione were the top students, the pairings were common in most classes, though Harry often went for Neville first, leaving the redhead to settle for the brunette, neither of whom liked the other. In fact, Ron seemed to actually hate the girl, insulting her within earshot if not to her face, and even Harry's annoyance with her melted slightly whenever he saw Hermione looking forlornly at his group, though she never made any effort to fix bridges.

"Now, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked from the top of his pile of books. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. The magic words are important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest!" The diminutive professor recited.

_That sounds totally rehearsed. _Harry thought as he supervised Neville's attempts. "One first, then the other, Neville."

"Okay." The boy replied with more confidence than he had when Harry first met him. "Movement first, then words." He repeated it a few more times like a mantra as he swished and flicked his wand.

"Yes, that's it." Harry nodded in approval. "Now words."

Neville nodded back and put his wand down, staring at the feather lying on the desk in front of him. "_ Wingardium Leviosa_!_ Wingardium Leviosa_!_ Wingardium Leviosa_!" He whispered.

The feather didn't move, but Neville continued to repeat the words, paying close attention to making them sound the way Flitwick had pronounced them.

"Okay, now you try. Watch me once, though." Harry held his wand in his hand, swished and flicked as he let the prana flow through the focus item. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The feather rose from its spot, hovering five feet above their heads.

"Very well done, Mr Potter! Everyone take a look!" Flitwick said as he applauded.

While Neville took a few tries of his own to get the feather to lift up to eye level, Ron wasn't having much luck.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The redhead shouted, not even following the wand movement, but making flamboyant swings with his wand.

"You're saying it wrong." Hermione's voice snapped even through Harry's attempt to ignore the girl. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa," She enunciated each syllable, "Make the 'gar' nice and long."

_Garrr... _Harry joked in his mind, then paused as he experienced an odd emotion. _Archer? Why are you feeling irritated. _(2)

_No particular reason. _The hero replied stiffly. _But I blame the Root of the World._

"You do it then, if you're so _clever_." Ron snarled, making the last word sound like an insult.

Hermione rolled up her sleeves and flicked her wand, saying, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

While her feather didn't reach the height of Harry's, it was still a good distance above their heads, and Professor Flitwick enthusiastically applauded her attempt as well, causing the girl to show a small smile.

However, Ron wasn't as happy; a storm cloud practically hung over his head by the time class ended. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," He said out loud to the other Gryffindors as they left the class, "She's a nightmare, honestly!"

Harry found himself rudely shoved aside, but managed to remain balanced on his feet. Looking in the direction of the one who knocked into him, he caught sight of Hermione, and was startled to see tears falling down her face.

"I think she heard you, Ron." Neville said uncomfortably.

"So?" Ron said, but he shrank a little under the looks of his Housemates. "She must've noticed that she's got no friends."

However, Harry reacted more than the others; the letters he had received from the girl's parents expressed their worry for their daughter, plus he had promised them that he would look after her, and now the factors were making him feel a little guilty about doing nothing to reach out to her ever since the incident with Fluffy. While he could do nothing against Snape no matter how unfair the man acted against him, it didn't mean that Harry wasn't angry about it. And that anger had just found an outlet.

He grabbed the front of Ron's robes and jerked the boy close, ignoring the yelp. "You listen to me, Ron! You've been acting like a damn prat all this while, insulting her where she can hear!"

"So?" The boy protested, struggling against Harry's steel grip. "She's the one who started it, acting all bossy!"

"That doesn't mean you should attack her like that!" snapped the white-haired boy, shoving his face into Ron's, before pulling back and taking a few deep breaths to calm down before Archer told him to. "Later, when _my friend_ comes back, you better apologize to her."

Ron just stood there sullenly.

"You better apologize..." repeated Harry, "Because if you don't... I'll make sure you regret it."

Releasing Ron's robes, the angry boy with white hair and a black fringe stalked off, followed by his uncomfortable classmates, who were shocked to see Harry react in such a way, and for the rest of the day, none of them dared to talk to him apart from Neville, most of all Ron, who stayed far away.

Hermione didn't show up for the next class, nor was she seen for the rest of the afternoon. When Harry checked his latest copy of the Marauder's Map after the last class, he found the ink dot marked 'Hermione Granger' inside one of the girls' bathrooms on the first floor.

_Archer? I want to make sure she's okay, but I don't want to go into a girls' toilet._

_I can't do anything either, Harry. You'll just have to wait for her to come out. Really, what will people think of you if they find out you did something like that?_

_Point taken. _Harry put away the map and joined up with Neville to head down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, making sure to avoid Ron Weasley, who looked even more awkward at overhearing from Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown about how Hermione was crying and wanted to be left alone.

The Halloween decorations were impressive, with flying bats and floating pumpkins instead of the usual candles, but all it served for Harry was to make him feel even more depressed. Neville seemed to sense his dark mood, but accompanied him instead of staying away like the other Gryffindors, and they picked at their food on the golden plates, eating lightly.

Just as Harry finished off a baked potato, Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban lopsided and an expression of terror on his face. Everyone turned their head to look at the usually stuttering professor.

"TROOOOOOLL! IN THE DUNGEON! TRROOOLL - IN THE DUNGEON!" He thumbed over his shoulder frantically, then seemed to stop, right in the center of the hall. "Thought you ought to know." He said in a faint voice, before collapsing forward onto his face.

Everything seemed to pause for a moment, then pandemonium occurred; students leapt to their feet, screaming, milling around in panic, while the teachers scrambled to restore order, all of it resulting in a ruckus that Harry hardly noticed in his shock.

_Hermione. _The girl wasn't present in the hall, so she wouldn't know of the danger, Harry realized.

_Go! _Archer ordered in their shared minds.

As Harry raced out of the Great Hall, he could hear several fireworks going off behind him, causing the students to shut up and listen to the one who had set them off (_Probably Dumbledore, _Harry decided). Activating his circuits and Reinforcing his body, Harry sprinted at a speed far beyond Quirrell's, or any normal human's, heading for the girls' bathroom that Hermione was in. When he reached the place, Harry slammed the door open and looked around frantically.

"Hermione! Hermione!" He called out.

He heard a sniff. "Ha-Ha-Harry?" That familiar voice sobbed back in reply. "Wh-what are you doing here? This is the girls' toilet-"

Harry raced over to the last stall where the voice came from. "There's a troll in the castle! A troll! We need to get out of here!"

The door swung open, showing a red-eyed brunette with extremely bushy hair. "What?"

_Explain slowly. You're only making it harder for her to understand the way you're speaking now. _

Harry forced himself to calm down. "Quirrell came running into the Great Hall," He began, "Screaming that there was a troll in the dungeons. You didn't know, so I came to get you. But we can't stay here. We need to stick together with the teachers!"

Hermione stared at him. "You came for me?" She asked faintly.

_Arrrrgh! Why doesn't she understand that she could be in danger! _Harry started to get worked up again. "Yes! You're irritating and bossy, but you're still my friend, damn it! Let's just go!"

"O-Okay." Hermione wiped at her eyes once more before Harry lost his patience and dragged her out of the toilet by the wrist.

_Tone down your Reinforcement, Harry. You'll hurt her. _Archer's ability to remember the small, important details shone once again.

_Thanks for reminding me. _"Okay... from here, it's just..." Harry tried to recall the shortest route to the Great Hall.

With the boy leading, the pair went down a few corridors, through a tapestry, and finally down a flight of stairs, finally emerging into a place with a straight route towards the Great Hall.

"What's that awful smell?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose.

Harry smelled it too, something like a mix of moldy old socks with toilets that nobody cleaned for ages. But underlying it was a different prana smell... one that belonged to creatures who had magic in them, as Harry had learnt from his own experimentation. Following his nose, he turned around and saw the troll just as it saw them.

Slightly taller than Hagrid, it was far uglier compared to the gentle giant. It's grey-skinned body resembled a lumpy bolder, with a small bald head perched on top, like the complete opposite of a house elf. One of its extremely long arms held a giant wooden club, which dragged along the floor because of its thick, stumpy legs. It grunted at the sight of the two frozen children, and slowly started to make its way towards them.

"Oh, damn it, damn it, damn it." Harry whispered, and started tugging on a frozen Hermione's hand. "Quick," He hissed, "Get back up the stairs!"

Slowly, Hermione started to move, taking trembling steps. But she suddenly stopped. "It's moved!" She moaned in horror.

Harry turned his head and witnessed the blood-chilling sight for himself; the staircase had picked the most inopportune time to move to another spot, leaving them with no way of escaping except to run straight down the corridor... in the direction of the troll, since the other way led to a dead end, according to Harry's memory.

"Hermione." The white-haired boy muttered, keeping his attention trained on the approaching creature, "Hermione!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the girl looked at him fearfully.

"I'll buy you some time."

"What?"

"I'll buy you some time," repeated Harry, "So get the teachers!"

"But-"

"No time!" Harry suddenly leapt at Hermione and carried her towards the troll, moving out of the way of the heavy club that came down. The two of them slipping around the troll's legs and Harry released Hermione, thrusting her towards the direction she was supposed to go. "GO! QUICKLY!"

Hermione gave him one last terrified look, before turning around and sprinting away to bring help.

_Damn, damn, damn. _Harry dodged another swing of the club, fighting the stench's assault on his nostrils. _There has to be something that I can do with my magic! _He thought furiously, and quickly came up with an idea. _But I can't get at its head without getting hit by its club!_

_You made a mistake in approaching. _Archer agreed as the boy ducked and rolled under a horizontal swipe of the troll's free hand. _Now you're within its range, and you can't get out safely._

_Unless I can stop its movement... _Harry answered grimly, drawing on Archer's fighting lessons. _But troll hide is extremely tough and resistant to magic... a simple cutting spell won't go through. But then again..._

_You have me, _completed Archer.

In spite of the situation Harry was in, the boy couldn't help but grin. _Let's do it, Archer. _"Synchro. Start." He said, holding his hands out.

A nameless blade appeared in their minds as prana filled the circuits they shared. "_Trace, ON!_"

* * *

(1) Original idea came from BajaB's Harry the Hufflepuff! Thanks to him for that great bit of work, as well as Almost a Squib!

(2) Saw this idea before in Herwald von Einzbern and the Philosopher's Stone, by kyugan. Can't really say I wouldn't have thought of the idea originally, since being GAR for Archer is a famous anime-related meme.

I really do like ending with cliffhangers like this... I know that most of the events that Harry has uncovered don't happen in canon for a long time (Sirius Black, the Hogwarts kitchens), but remember that this Harry is curious about his origins and hidden stuff, so he has a tendency to dig around to uncover them. Maybe I might have said this before, but I doubt I'll see any people saying my Harry is OOC. There are so many versions of Harry running around on FF, some Dark, some angry (which mine is, rather short-tempered fellow), some insane... Harry is only OOC if the writer is trying to write a fanfiction that actually deals with an event that JKR didn't write in original canon, and twists Harry's character over much.

Don't know why I wrote that... Author notes are important to clear up some questions, but sometimes I forget what I want to put in them.

So Harry learned about the Gandr curse. Some people will say it's Dark, etc. But who knows...

Anyway, no update next week as I'll be overseas. And I want to work on my Touhou story. So for now, have a random omake.

* * *

Harry fingered the card in his hand as he stood outside with his bow. _You ask an odd favor, Archer._

_It's personal for me. _The spirit explained, but did not elaborate any further.

The boy shrugged, and put the Chocolate Frog Card from last night's snack on the fence, slotting its bottom into a crack in the food and letting it stand upright. The sorceress in the picture pressed her hands against the sides like some mime trapped in an invisible cage, unable to leave the constraints, but he ignored her and walked away.

Harry came to a stop next to his quiver of arrows, and drew one of them out. He put it to his bow and started to draw the string back, taking aim at the small pentagon far away. Halfway through, he felt Archer add his own control to the body they shared, and their posture became more pronounced.

From this distance, he needed to sharpen his vision slightly to see the picture's scared features. The sorceress featured on the card was supposedly a beauty, with dark hair and regal red robes under a black shawl. It didn't match the image of the woman in Archer's memory, but Harry didn't really care. All he knew was that Archer wanted to do this because of the name printed on the back of the card.

_**MEDEA OF COLCHIS.**_

Archer loosed the arrow, and watched it slice through the air with the satisfaction of one who knows his aim was true.

THK.

The arrow buried itself into the trunk of the tree beyond the fence, pierced through a pentagon of stiff paper.

END (Was that too morbid?)


	8. Sixth Spell

The blade appeared in Harry's hands with a flash of soft light, its heavy weight feeling oddly familiar in his grip. It had no name, but the weapon had a long history of being used by humans to fell those stronger and tougher than them - against a troll, it was one of the most effective weapons Harry could have used. Harry raised it behind his head, dodging yet another attempt by the troll to grab him as he prepared to swing the blade and inflict injury.

_Not yet! _Archer warned. _Alter the blade!_

Information filled Harry's mind, causing him to realize just how close he was to making a mistake by revealing his ability to cut a troll. Activating three magic circuits, the boy performed Alteration, the magecraft of changing an item's property; 'slashing' became 'bashing', while the damage would remain the same. The metal ripples, and the sharp edge transforms into the smooth curve of a baton.

_Now._

"HAAAH!" Harry yelled out, and swung the weapon like a bat.

The metal smashed into the back of the troll's right knee, causing it to roar in pain and stumble slightly. Seeing that, Harry Reinforced his arms further, and swung once more, then spun between the troll's legs to strike the same spot on the other leg. This time, the troll whimpered and dropped its club, bending over to clutch at its injured joints even as it crumpled forward. Dispelling the baton, Harry dove into a roll, barely avoiding getting caught by the smelly feet as the troll crashed into the floor. He turned around after getting to his feet, and caught sight of the unmoving body.

_It must have knocked its head against the floor since it failed to stop itself with its hands. _Archer guessed.

_Lucky for us then. Saves us the trouble of attacking any further. _Harry's ears pricked up at the sound of pounding footsteps, and turned around.

Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick came around the corner with their wands out, followed by Hermione. They paused at the sight of Harry standing in front of an unconscious troll, then approached at a more cautious pace. Harry took one look at their faces, and quickly stepped aside so he was out of their line of fire. With him no longer in the way, the three professors conjured chains and wrapped the troll up.

"Heavens! What happened here, Mr Potter?" McGonagall spoke first, her eyes locked on the large body.

Dumbledore looked very grave, but Archer noted a hint of pride in the old man's eyes, and informed Harry. "I would like to know that myself."

Harry looked between each of the teachers, before letting his eyes fall on Hermione, who looked extremely relieved to see Harry safe. "I got lucky - I kicked it in the shins, and it tripped forward and knocked itself out." The white-haired boy explained, modifying the truth slightly.

"You could have been killed! Why weren't you with the rest of the students?"

Hermione picked the moment to speak. "Please, Professor. Harry came to warn me because I wasn't in the Great Hall, but we ran into the troll on our way back." She shrank a little under their questioning gazes, but bravely continued, "He saved me from getting killed, then told me to get help while he delayed it."

"You were right in coming to get us, Miss Granger. But what were you thinking, Mr Potter?" Flitwick squeaked, turning from the girl to the boy.

Harry could see that the small-sized wizard was deadly serious, unlike his previous cheerful self during their discussions. But he didn't flinch or look away; he met gaze for gaze, and replied, "I did what was necessary, that's all."

"Well, that was very courageous of you, Harry," Dumbledore broke in, smiling benignly, "I believe Gryffindor deserves twenty points for your willingness to go to the aid of a friend, and even confront a troll for her sake."

Harry just inclined his head, staring at Dumbledore's beard. It was suspicious how the old man addressed him so personally while the other teachers used his surname.

"That will be all. Mr Potter, Miss Granger, the Houses are finishing the remainder of the Halloween feast in their common rooms. You had best hurry if you wish to have any food." McGonagall told them, her words a clear dismissal.

Footsteps made all of them turn to look - it was Professor Snape, who looked like he had rushed here in a hurry. Catching sight of the group, Snape made his way over to them with a sneer for Harry, and started whispering into Dumbledore's ear, the older man tilting his head to listen. Harry's eyes narrowed as he compared the earlier sound with the man's odd gait in his mind...

_His leg is injured... but why? _He enhanced his hearing, and caught a mention of the third floor corridor. _The dog... Fluffy must have injured him... but that's odd..._

Archer agreed with Harry on that point. _It shouldn't be possible for Snape to have been injured if he was alone... someone else must have been present._

McGonagall seemed to realize that the two children were still present, and repeated her orders for them to go back to their common room. The two children nodded, and took their leave of the professors, leaving the adults to deal with the disposal of the troll. Harry wasn't sure whether to lead or follow, and eventually settled for walking next to Hermione. The girl kept silent as they traversed the corridors of Hogwarts, though she stole many glances at him, biting her lower lip as if trying to speak and stopping herself from doing so.

It was only when they were three corridors away from the Fat Lady's portrait that Hermione finally found enough courage to talk. "Harry..."

They both stopped walking and turned to look at each other - one pair of eyes unsure while the other was guarded. "Yes?" asked Harry.

"What you said when we were in the toilet..." Hermione trailed off.

"About you being my friend?" Harry guessed, and Hermione nodded. "Of course. You might be irritating, but I consider you a friend nonetheless."

_Smooth._ Archer complimented, even as Harry dodged Hermione's attempt to swat him.

Hardly anyone in the Gryffindor common room noticed their entry, since the crowd in it was making a lot of noise as they ate the food that was sent up. Neville and Ron were there, but only the former had any question in his eyes when he saw the pair enter through the portrait hole, since the other boy was more focused on the food. However, Harry didn't miss the "Thanks" Hermione muttered as they headed to get plates of their own. He privately hoped that she would finally mellow out a little after this incident.

Later that night, Harry was busy discussing things with Archer in Archer's world of blades.

"Trolls don't normally get into a castle that has been warded to protect the children within," stated Harry as he paced back and forth in front of Archer. "Which means, it was let in. The question then, is who?"

Archer just waited silently, letting the boy exercise his own thinking.

"First of all, nearly everyone was at that Halloween feast. Those who weren't there were..." Harry stopped walking and began counting off his fingers. "Hermione, Sinistra, Hagrid, and Quirrell."

"It's possible that the troll was let in previously." Archer reminded him. "It could have been kept away somewhere until it was released today."

Harry nodded. It wasn't likely, but it was still a valid point, and one he should have considered. But that could wait until later.

"Okay, but going by the first theory, I can count out Hermione and Hagrid, since those two are extremely unlikely to do anything that would hurt someone else. That leaves Sinistra, who's nearly as unlikely since she hardly steps out of her tower, and Quirrell himself." Harry folded down his fingers until only one was left.

"That just leaves why. Why would Quirrell let in a troll? In fact, he hardly seems the type-" Harry stopped, and slapped his forehead in realization. "This is the guy who's been faking a stutter all this while... he would be the last person anyone would suspect."

"Which makes him the most suspicious one." The man nodded, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "People don't usually faint forwards. He put his hands out to cushion his fall at the last moment."

"Which means he was faking that as well. Plus the way he revealed the troll's presence was very sloppy..." Harry resumed his pacing again. "Everyone was going into a panic... perfect for covering up something he would do later..."

"Harry."

He stopped again and looked confusedly at Archer, who looked at him meaningfully. "What is being hidden here?"

Harry slapped his forehead again, this time with more force as he realized that he had foolishly forgotten that important fact. "Quirrell's probably after the thing Dumbledore is hiding here! The troll was just a distraction! Then..." He frowned. "What about Snape? Why was he injured by Fluffy?"

"It could be that he was making his own play for the item as well," conceded Archer, "But it could also be that he was there to defend it and ran afoul of the dog."

Harry considered the information carefully, before grunting in annoyance. "Still not enough information to make a concrete conclusion."

"What do you know for sure?" Archer prompted.

"Dumbledore is keeping something that someone powerful is after in Hogwarts, under defenses that include a giant three-headed dog. Quirrell is an actor who is most likely after the item - he's quite sneaky," admitted Harry, before he continued listing down what he was sure of. "Snape is an unpleasant fellow, but Dumbledore trusts him for some reason. He could be faking, but- oh right, what I know for sure." He considered what he just said, then shook his head disappointedly. "Not entirely enough."

"You have your suspects... so what are you going to do next?"

Harry thought about it. What could he do? Go to someone with his suspicions - McGonagall, Dumbledore? No, he didn't have any strong evidence yet; they wouldn't believe him. Then he would just need some.

"Research into Snape and Quirrell, and observe them." Harry said, feeling a bit irritated that he would have even less time now. "Perhaps find out what the item is."

Archer nodded approvingly as he uncrossed his arms. "Good plan."

Two straight short swords appeared in the hero's hands, and he tossed them to Harry, who barely managed to catch them without fumbling the weapons and cutting himself. Another two more swords appeared, but this time, they were a black and white pair of curved swords - Kanshou and Bakuya. Harry's eyes widened, and he quickly got into a defensive stance.

"Prepare yourself!"

Without waiting for Harry to do so, he attacked, charging straight at the boy with a heavy downward swing with his right.

Harry dodged to the side, parrying it away with a lifted blade, and prepared to counter. A sudden flash of white made him dodge back instinctively - Archer had stabbed under his arm with the other weapon, which would have hit Harry in the face if he hadn't backed off.

Before the implications of that could sink in, Harry had to duck as the black blade came back around in a backswing for his neck. Archer's initial strike was a fake; he hadn't put any real force behind it, allowing him to recover for this subsequent attack.

"You can't win if you only defend!" scolded the hero as he attacked again and again, forcing Harry to dodge and parry desperately.

Struck by the words, Harry lashed out, only to have Archer block it firmly.

"That was useless!" Archer unleashed a combination of strikes that locked Harry into position, before kicking out with a heavy boot.

"Gahk!" Harry gasped as he flew off his feet, skidding across the ground as he landed.

He didn't let go of his swords or lie around - past spars with Archer had taught him not to, and rolled quickly out of the way before getting to his feet. The kick had distanced him enough from the man to allow him to recover, and he didn't waste the chance - Harry attacked.

Archer didn't even bat an eye as he defended against and countered Harry's strikes, his blades almost dancing as they caught, parried, or deflected Harry's moves with a steady rhythm of metallic clashing.

Then Harry saw an opening - and took it. He swung at Archer's unprotected back from a blind spot-

Only to meet Kanshou. Archer had blocked without even looking.

"What?" Harry gaped, but that was a mistake.

Bakuya's tip was less than an inch from his throat before he realized it. "You're dead." Archer told him.

"That... I remember now!" Harry exclaimed, not caring that he was very close to cutting his throat.

_If you know what it is, you could figure out the other party's intention, and possibly come up with a better solution to defend against it. _The words Archer had told him a while back. They had seemed so familiar, and now he remembered why.

"You couldn't have seen me attacking... but you didn't need to." Harry wasn't paying attention to the weapon Archer was pointing at him, instead thinking about his spar with Archer. "Because you knew I would strike there."

Archer nodded and lowered Bakuya. "You're right."

"That's your style, isn't it?" Harry guessed, focusing on Archer's guarded expression. "You leave those openings... so you can draw your opponent in."

Archer didn't say anything, but Harry didn't need to hear. They both knew that it was a suicidal style, but Harry still didn't understand why Archer would wield such a fighting style.

"That's enough for tonight." Archer told him, and turned away, letting both sets of blades dissipate.

* * *

As the school entered November, the weather became quite cold. Previously green mountain scenery turned icy grey in both color and temperature, and every morning saw the ground covered in frost. Hagrid could usually be seen from the higher windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled all the way up in overcoat, gloves and boots. Harry thought that more people would be talking about the troll on Halloween, but instead their attention was diverted somewhere else.

Quidditch season had started, but Harry could hardly care less. He turned up for the thrice-weekly trainings, thought up of ways where he could do more use apart from just floating around high up trying to find the Snitch, read up on and practiced various flying maneuvers, but he still couldn't really care much about the sport, the total opposite of Oliver Wood. In fact, as the older boy grew increasingly frantic about the upcoming Gryffindor-Slytherin match on Saturday, Harry grew increasingly frustrated with all the last-minute practices that Wood was holding. In spite of his love for flying (which was the main reason he went along with the initial three nights a week), Harry's patience was fast running out. If not for his Assignment Quills (which were making him quite a good amount of money despite their high price, even the Hufflepuff seniors tipped him despite him gifting them Quills for their help), Harry wouldn't have any time left to explore the castle at all. As it was, he could only allocate two hours a week to that task.

After the troll incident, Hermione had rejoined the group. But it took a lot of work on her and Harry's part to get them to reaccept her, mostly due to her character. Despite becoming more relaxed about rule-breaking after Harry put himself in danger's way for her, she still didn't like the Quills, feeling that it was cheating, but Harry had headed her off by pointing out that it was the fault of the person who used it if they failed their exams in the end. After all, he only used it for tedious work like History or the occasional unfairly-length Potions essay that Snape would set. Mollified, she then turned to the charms he had used to create them, something that Harry didn't mind revealing.

The few rumors that had sprung up around the troll's appearance forced Harry to explain to his group about how he had rescued Hermione from the beast in order to quell some of the fancier ones. Still, he didn't manage to distract them until he asked Daphne Greengrass for some lessons in etiquette for him and Hermione. It was yet another drain on his practically non-existent free time, but it would be important in the future. It also went a long way in fixing Hermione's bossy personality when the dark-haired girl pointed out just how much the brunette's attitude went in justifying the Purebloods' derision of those raised by Non-magicals. It amazed Harry how Hermione seemed to have nearly no sense of using 'please' when asking for things.

Harry's self-studying was also taking a beating from all the new demands on his time, and more than once, Archer had to remind him to return to those subjects after he had practiced his magecraft or completed his homework.

But he didn't forget about the present threat. Every Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Harry would keep a close eye on Professor Quirrell for any clue as to what the man's intentions were, and he did the same with Snape outside of Potions class, which was only on Fridays. Both acted innocent enough, but Archer's experience allowed him to identify the odd dislike in the former (the latter made no show of hiding his), further solidifying Harry and Archer's suspicions of the turban-wearing man.

As for the identity of the item, Harry wanted to go and interrogate Hagrid, who was sure to let something important slip, but first, he had a Quidditch match to focus on.

The day of the match dawned bright and cold, and the Great Hall was filled with the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of those who were looking forward to the match. Despite having slept in a little to ensure that he was in tiptop condition, Harry was feeling a little nervous, but he managed to force himself to eat a few of the long pieces of meat. Around him, Gryffindors were wishing him luck and telling him to win so that their House could retain their lead, and he nodded to them, recalling how some of them had volunteered to be running around on the pitch so they could catch him if he fell.

_The most serious accidents tend to happen to the Seekers. And it's usually due to the other players. _Archer brought up one of the facts from _Quidditch Through The Ages_, a book Hermione lent to him. _But I'm sure you'll be fine._

_Thanks, Archer. _Harry thought back dryly.

Harry had explored the Quidditch pitch just once before after his first training with Wood. There wasn't much to find; the stands raised around the field were nothing more than simple benches, with a few high of them extending high up in the form of towers to the level of the hoops used as the goals. But when Harry passed by the place on his way to the locker room, he saw the whole setup painted a vibrant red and yellow.

_Coincidentally matching Gryffindor's colors..._ Harry realized. He had tried looking for more examples of the Gryffindor good, Slytherin bad bias, and found too many of them.

Most of the students were carrying binoculars since the pitch was too big to see what was going on sometimes, and Harry spotted Hermione and Neville carrying a large cloth bundle. They waved, but didn't stop to talk. Daphne and Tracey came by to wish him luck, though they also added that they were supporting Slytherin out of House loyalty. Malfoy just sniffed and looked away.

In the locker room, Harry changed into his scarlet Quidditch robes and waited with the rest of the team.

Wood cleared his throat theatrically. "Okay, men."

"And women," Angelina Johnson reminded.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," Fred spoke up in a fair imitation of Wood's voice.

"The one we've all been waiting for," George followed.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred added in an aside to Harry, "We were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two." Wood glowered over at the twins, who shut up with grins on their faces. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it!"

He glared at all of them as if daring them to prove him wrong.

"Let's go." Harry said shortly, slinging his Nimbus over his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm the captain here!" Wood protested even as the rest of the team followed Harry out of the locker room.

Harry was greeted by loud cheers as he stepped out onto the field, and as he looked around, he spotted his Gryffindor yearmates in one of the towers, with a banner that had a painted lion and the words 'Potter for President' under it, flashing in different colors. In spite of his serious mood, he couldn't help a smirk. The only one in that group that could do that was Hermione, and it appeared that she was getting back into their year-mates' good graces.

The two teams stopped in the center of the field, clustered around Madam Hooch, who was refereeing the match.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, who was even more heavyset than Crabbe and Goyle combined. "Mount your brooms, please."

Harry climbed onto his broom and kicked off when she blew her whistle, taking to the air among streaks of red and green. He could hear the familiar sound of wind rushing past as he ascended, and also-

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is," Lee Jordan was doing the commentary, "And rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall was closely watching the black boy.

"Sorry Professor."

Harry shook his head, casting around for the Snitch from high up above. It was part of his game plan with Wood: stay out of the way until the Snitch is found, so as to avoid any unneeded attacks. But Harry had added his own twist to it. Gryffindor soon scored its first goal, and possession went to Slytherin. There was his cue.

Harry went into a sudden steep dive. "YEEEEAAAAAAAH!" He screamed out exaggeratedly.

"Potter's seen the Snitch!" Harry heard Jordan whoop.

Instantly the whole stadium focused on Harry, except for the Gryffindor team, who immediately took advantage of the distraction to launch an all-out offensive. Fred and George combined their efforts and took one of the opposing Beaters out of the game, while the Chaser trio swiped the Quaffle out of Slytherin's hands and proceeded to score twice before the enemy Keeper could react. Harry came out of the dive at full speed, rushing straight for the other Slytherin Beater. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Terence Higgs approaching from the side, having been fooled by his feint. From up ahead, the crack of the Beater's bat marked the approach of a Bludger, and Harry responded by performing a barrel roll, allowing the black missile to pass harmlessly by. Higgs wasn't so lucky - one of the twins had gotten into position behind Harry, and sent the Bludger right at the Seeker from behind, hitting him hard.

Harry pulled up and out of the charge, barely missing the Slytherin Beater, and returned to circling the sky. The cheers from three-quarters of the school was tumultuous, and Harry allowed a small wave as he looked around for the Snitch. From his high vantage point, he could see nearly everywhere, but there was no glimpse of gold he had learned to associate with the game-ending ball. In the tower stand where his Gryffindor friends were, he noticed a large form - Hagrid had come to watch.

"That was marvelous! Potter pulls off an excellent combination play, putting Gryffindor thirty points above Slytherin!" Jordan was saying. "Take that, you slimy-"

"Jordan!" McGonagall growled.

"I mean, go Gryffindor!" The boy altered his words hastily.

Suddenly, Harry's nose itched, and his broom lurched. He gripped tightly onto the mahogany handle and started analyzing it; the response unsettled him: his broom was being affected by a stream of prana. Like any reputable broom, the Nimbus Two Thousand had its own set of anti-curse defenses, but this one was gradually breaking through them. Whoever the person cursing him was, he was _strong_.

_Archer! _He shouted in his mind.

_Hold on tight, _instructed the hero, _Reinforce your hands and eyes first. Next, look for the culprit._

Harry did as he was told to, and began looking around desperately even as the broom jerked again.

"Slytherin in possession, Flint holding the Quaffle, passes Spinnet, passes Bell- no, gets hit in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose-" There was the sound of a whack. "Only joking, Professor- hit by another Bludger, taken by Johnson!"

_Doesn't anybody notice that I'm having some trouble here? _Harry complained. With the new stream of prana overriding the connection between him and his broom, it was no longer responding to his control, zigzagging through the air and making violent motions that threatened to unseat him if not for his powerful grip. _Hufflepuff, clear. Ravenclaw, clear. Slytherin- _His eyes narrowed. _Snape._

The Slytherin Professor had his eyes locked onto Harry, or more specifically, Harry's broom. And his mouth was moving continuously as he muttered what was certainly some spell.

_What about Quirrell? There are two different streams of prana. _Archer alerted Harry to the new additon.

It didn't take long for Harry to find the purple turban near Snape's position and see its wearer's expression of hatred. _He's doing the same, but different wo- _"WOOOAH!"

His broom suddenly spun over in midair, sending Harry upside-down and causing him to hang on only by his hands. It jerked up and down a few more times, as though trying to shake him off, but Harry's grip wasn't going to give anytime soon.

The crowd had already noticed; people were pointing up at him and he had heard an audible gasp when the broom had thrown him off his seat. The Weasley twins had abandoned their roles and were trying to get to him, but the broom seemed to respond to them, jumping even higher out of range whenever one of them drew close. Even the Chasers had stopped moving, looking up with horrified expressions, and he spotted Flint taking advantage of their distraction to score a few times before Wood realized. By now, Harry was at twice the height of the tallest stand - even at full Reinforcement, he would probably die if he fell from where he was.

Then he noticed something. _Hermione?_

The bushy-haired girl was charging along the lower stands, making her way around the circumference of the stadium.

_She's realized that someone is jinxing your broom. _Archer realized. _But who is she going-_

Quirrell was knocked headfirst into the row in front of him as Hermione charged past him, and Harry felt one of the prana streams break off. He reached out with his own prana, and the broom locked onto it immediately.

_Should I take Qui-_

Archer cut Harry off almost instantly. _No. Too risky. _

_But-_

_Trust me on this. You don't want an audience this big._

_Fine._ Harry thought sulkily as he got back onto his Nimbus.

Down in the stands, Snape suddenly bolted upright and started dancing frantically, while the culprit was headed back the way she came, her mission accomplished.

_She hit the wrong target, but achieved the objective. _Archer chuckled even as Harry went into another dive.

_Talk about a stroke of luck, _agreed Harry, even as the ground rushed up towards him with the stationary circle of gold in the center of his sight. _Got it!_

The boy hit the ground faster than he normally should, bouncing slightly across it and leaving muddy dents in the field, but at the end of it, he raised his left arm and showed off the Golden Snitch firmly in his grasp.

"I've got the Snitch!" He shouted, and the game ended in complete confusion.

Lee Jordan was still announcing the results ten minutes later - Gryffindor won by one hundred and ninety points to forty, though Harry hardly heard any of this, being the recipient of a dressing down back in the locker room.

"You really fooled us out there, Harry!" Katie scolded him despite having conducted a frantic check for injuries not a minute ago. "Pretending that something was wrong with your broom when you were trying to keep the Slytherin Seeker from noticing the Snitch! How could you scare us like that!"

"Good play, Harry, good play." Wood said hoarsely.

Only the twins noticed Harry's dark expression, and ambushed him on the way to Hagrid's for a cup of tea. The result led to him, Neville, Hermione and them sitting in the giant man's hut with a cup of strong tea for him.

"It, it was Snape." Neville stuttered, still haven't gotten over the shock of seeing Harry holding onto his broom for dear life. "Her-Hermione saw him, cursing your broom, not taking his eyes off you."

The twins hissed angrily, but Hagrid dismissed it almost instantly. "Rubbish, why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry wasn't sure how to explain, but before he could ask Archer for help, Hermione spoke up.

"I think it has something to do with the three-headed dog (Neville whimpered again, while the twins looked interested) on the third floor. I heard Snape complaining about trying to keep an eye all on three heads when I went to the staff room to ask Professor Flitwick about an assignment. And he started limping after Halloween!" finished Hermione with a note of triumph in her voice as she delivered her evidence to prove her conclusion. "I think he let the troll in as a diversion while he tried to steal whatever's being hidden on the third floor!"

_I should have known she would notice his limp. That girl is sharp. _Harry thought, feeling slightly impressed.

Hagrid dropped the teapot. "How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" Fred, or maybe George, interrupted. "So the dog has a name?"

"Yeah, he's mine. Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the Philo-" Hagrid immediately stopped talking.

"Philo-what?" Hermione pressed.

_He's getting better at stopping himself. _Harry noted.

_Even an old dog can learn new tricks. _Archer said with a bit of amusement.

"Now don't ask me any more, that's top secret, it is." Hagrid said gruffly, even as Hermione and the twins slumped in disappointment.

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," Hagrid repeated. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione cried out. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!" The girl insisted.

_Seems like she's finally lost her teacher worship. _

_Maybe it's just Snape. That man is very unpleasant._

Harry nodded, and finally spoke up. "It wasn't Snape."

Everyone turned and looked at him, Hermione's expression looking like he had just betrayed her.

"It was Quirrell."

Their expressions grew even more disbelieving.

"Oh come on, Harry. That's got to be the worst joke ever." George, or maybe Fred, broke the incredulous silence first.

"Quirrell? I mean, really? The man's afraid of his own shadow, for Merlin's sake!" His twin added.

"He stutters so badly-"  
"Ran from a troll-"  
"Avoids talking about that vampire-"  
"-hardly seems the type to jinx your broom."

"I know jinxes as well. And Quirrell was doing the same, keeping his eyes on me while his lips moved." Harry explained. "Coincidentally _without_ stuttering."

The twins looked at each other. "That IS suspicious, don't you think?" "Totally."

"But Snape-" Hermione seemed determined to blame the Potions teacher.

"Could have been performing a counter-curse as well." Harry interrupted. "You have to do the same staring and continuous chanting. I read that in a library book."

"I don' know 'bout Quirrell, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student!" Hagrid added his own opinion, his rough speech breaking through as he got worked up. "Now listen to me, you lot, yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel-"

_Does that name ring a bell, Archer? _Harry asked even as triumph flashed across Hermione's face.

_I've heard it before, in my world. But I can't recall exactly where..._

Hagrid looked furious with himself, but everyone else (except for Neville) seemed excited about the mystery of the item on the third floor.

On the way back to the castle, the twins pulled Harry a short distance away from the others and engaged in their twin-speak with him between the two of them.

"Harry, we've been thinking-"  
"-about what you said-"  
"-regarding Quirrell trying-"  
"-to kill you."

"And?"

"We think you might have a point."

"That's impossible!" Hermione burst out, having overheard. She approached them looking annoyed. "Professor Quirrell's just, just..." She trailed off, unsure of how to defend the man.

"You really need to get over that teacher-worship of yours, Hermione." Harry told her. "Anyway, I'm not going to do anything." _Not yet, _he added in his mind.

"You're not?" Neville finally spoke up. "But he tried to kill you!"

Hermione spluttered and turned to glare at the other boy, but Harry interrupted before she could say anything.

"Think about it. He's certainly a strong ma- wizard," Harry stopped himself from saying 'magus', "If he could jinx a Nimbus Two Thousand. If I'm right, he's also the one who let the troll in, so it's too risky to try and confront him."

"Then what are you going to do?" Hermione whispered, suddenly cowed by her memory of encountering the troll. "We should tell Professor Dumbledore!"

Harry thought fast. His knowledge of what Dumbledore had done kept him from trusting the man too much, and honestly, this was a man who thought it was smart to announce the secret to a school full of children. "Snape already has." He voiced a guess.

"How do you know?" The twin on his right asked.

"Hermione, what do you think of Snape as a teacher? Neville? Fred, George?"

"Huh?" They seemed surprised by the question, but their answers were pretty much the same; Snape was a lousy teacher who was biased towards his own House, it was surprising he still had his job.

"For some strange reason, Professor Dumbledore seems to trust Snape. I wouldn't be surprised if Snape told him that someone tried to get the item, especially after he got injured by... Fluffy. Besides, even if he hasn't," Harry glanced back at the cottage they left, "Hagrid will."

"That makes sense." The left twin spoke up, though Hermione still looked doubtful.

"Soooo..." Harry drew out the sound until he had everyone's attention once more. "What I intend to do is just stay low-profile, while watching him. Think about it, he hasn't attacked me once until today's game, which could have been revenge for the troll. So the best thing to do is to not let him get me alone."

"Wait, you mean you really-"  
"-did fight that troll on Halloween?"

The twins weren't around when he had dispelled the rumors with his group, so this bit of information was news to them.

Harry cursed in his mind as he realized that he had let the information slip out. "Yes, I did. No, I'm not going to say any more." He said shortly.

_Careless. _Archer's rebuke sounded in his head.

Unexpectedly, the twins didn't look like they weren't about to let it go, but nodded understandingly and let the matter drop.

"So are we all agreed? We don't do anything, except keep an eye on Quirrell."

"Okay." Neville was the first to agree, perhaps because it was a safe choice.

"We'll still be-"  
"-pranking him though." The twins added their agreement with nods.

"I still think we should tell Professor Dumbledore, but I guess you're right." Hermione finally gave in as well. "But I think we should still find out what is being hidden on the third floor."

Harry's head slumped in defeat as the group agreed with her new suggestion as well. _Hopefully they won't get hurt this way. Remembered who Nicholas Flamel was yet?_

_No, but I do have some idea as to how you might be able to learn his identity._

Harry perked up. _How?_

_Remember the connections, and work from big to small. _Archer gave one of his hints.

_Connections... _Harry pondered, barely realizing that he was going up a staircase back to Gryffindor tower. _Flamel... Dumbledore... Flamel... ah, I see! If I look through Dumbledore's history, I might find a clue as to Flamel's identity!_

_That's correct. _

"Alright," Hermione's crisp voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts, "So we'll look through the library for any mention of Nicholas Flamel or something that starts with Philo."

The rest, except Nevlle, were nodding, but Harry interrupted again. "I've got another idea."

"What are you going to do, ask Dumbledore?"

"No, but how about looking into Dumbledore's history?"

Harry had to explain his way of thinking. Whoever Nicholas Flamel was, he _simply _had to be famous if he knew Dumbledore well enough that the old wizard was protecting something of his, especially since even Archer knew his name (Harry obviously didn't mention the second part), so if Harry's hunch was right, his name would be mentioned in conjunction with Dumbledore's in an account of the old wizard's history. It was an indirect method of searching, compared to the direct way Hermione suggested.

"As if we'd find Nicholas Flamel so easily," scoffed Hermione. "Pig snout."

They had reached the Fat Lady's portrait, and it swung open right for them. The victory party was already underway, and Harry and the twins were greeted with cheers as they climbed through the hole.

Not ten minutes later, Neville came up to Harry holding a Chocolate Frog Card of Dumbledore. "I've found him! I found Nicholas Flamel!"

"Told you so." Harry said to a dumbstruck Hermione.

* * *

So now the five of them knew; Dumbledore was holding the Philosopher's Stone at Hogwarts for Nicholas Flamel, an item reputed to be capable of transforming lead into gold and producing the immortality-granting Elixir of Life. It was natural to see why people would want something like it, but Harry was surprised to see that none of the others had any interest in it. The twins were only interested in having fun, Hermione sought only knowledge like the Alchemy involved in its creation, and Nevile... Neville seemed to recognize the risk involved in possessing something everyone wanted.

But Harry realized something else, and let the others know; Nicholas Flamel was over six hundred years old, and the information about the Philosopher's Stone was decades old. So many other people knew, but only until now did Flamel trust Dumbledore in guarding the Stone. Six hundred years of experience versus one hundred and fifty. Couldn't they realize what was wrong?

They could.

It was a simple conclusion to reach: the Stone that was being kept was most likely a fake.

The other pieces fell into place after that; this whole setup by Dumbledore was nothing more than a very obvious trap, and as long as Quirrell didn't realize it, everything would eventually play out by itself. It wasn't difficult to convince the others to do the same. School was a place for learning and having fun, it wasn't for confronting Dark Wizards who wanted to steal powerful magical artifacts.

_Well, that's that, I guess. _Harry thought to Archer as he walked to his next class. _As long as I don't incite Quirrell to attack me, I should be fine._

He heard Archer sigh tiredly.

_What's wrong? _

_I have a feeling you just put yourself in for more trouble._

_What? _Harry's expression revealed his incredulousness towards Archer's words. _What are you talking about, I'm not going to do anything, how am I going to get into trouble?_

"Potter."

Harry schooled his facial muscles into a meaningless smile and turned to look. "Good afternoon, Malfoy."

"Good afternoon." The blonde returned the greeting in a grumbled mutter, his two cronies standing in their usual position.

They stood there each waiting for the other to speak, but neither did so at first. Harry noticed that they were in a place without any portraits; Draco seemed to have taken Harry's warning about non-living eavesdroppers to heart by confronting him in such a corridor.

Harry broke the silence first. "What did you need me for, Malfoy?"

"You..." started Draco. "I would like to extend an invitation to you to come and spend the Christmas holidays at my home. I know that Christmas are usually spent with the family, but..." He left it hanging delicately.

Harry quickly ran through Daphne's etiquette lessons. He didn't want to go, especially so given the Malfoys' reputation for being one of the Dark families and a former supporter of Voldemort's cause, but he couldn't just refuse directly as that would constitute an insult. It was a very smart move on Draco's part, especially since he was asking this early, enough so that no one else would have done the same.

"I apologize, Malfoy. I already agreed to spend Christmas with Granger." He had to remember not to refer to Hermione by her first name when talking to other Purebloods. It was a sort of custom where referral to a person by his or her first name could only be done if both knew that person personally.

The distaste on Draco's face was evident. "That Mud-"

Harry almost failed to stop himself, his wand shot into his hand and he raised it in preparation to fire a Stinging Hex before stopping himself and quickly tucking it away. The three Slytherins noticed almost too late and were pulling out their own wands before Harry had his holstered once more. He had quite a lot of experience with the rampant bigotry, and it really irritated Harry considering that Lily Potter was also of non-magical descent.

"Do not mention that term in front of me, Malfoy." Harry said stiffly, letting them see his curled fingers. "Besides, it is a vulgar term that you, as the Scion of House Malfoy, should not _ever_ use in public."

Draco glared at him, but nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, who stepped back and put away the wands they looked like they didn't know how to use, before stowing his own into the pocket he drew it from.

"I will take your advice, Potter. However, I believe it would be much more beneficial to you if you were to cease your interactions with Mu-Muggleborns."

_These Purebloods really hold onto their views, don't they?_

_Indeed they do. You're doing a good job of dealing with him without me, keep it up._

"Perhaps we should have a wager, Malfoy?" Harry said casually, slumping his shoulders slightly.

"A wager? What on?"

"I've read enough to know the reason for the M-word." Harry pronounced the term with a semblance of disgust. "My terms for the wager are as such: if Hermione Granger scores higher than you in the final exams, you are to no longer show her any disrespect based on her ancestry."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "What you ask for is... difficult."

They both knew how well Hermione did on her assignments and the extent of her knowledge of the first year syllabus. Draco could only surpass her in Potions, and that was with Snape's help.

"The conditions, or the penalty?" Harry asked, his tone mildly sardonic.

Draco flushed. "Fine! I accept your wager, Potter!"

Harry raised one eyebrow, barely hiding the glee that his provoking worked. "That was unwise, Malfoy. You accepted without asking the terms in the event of my loss."

The other boy's jaw dropped, and strangled noises escaped his throat.

"But I'm not going to take advantage of it. If I lose," Harry closed his eyes momentarily to think, but not dropping his attention away from the Slytherins, "If I lose, I will owe you three personal favors to be called in at any time."

"Three?" whispered Draco, shocked.

A single personal favor was a great thing for Harry to offer; Draco could have asked Harry to give him his support, and Harry would have no choice but to do it unless he wanted to appear dishonorable. For Harry to offer three was a great deal indeed.

Harry nodded. "Yes, three. Are we agreed?"

"We are!" Draco almost fell over himself to agree, and a devious smirk appeared on his face. "Be seeing you around, Potter."

_There he goes, _Archer commented as Harry watched Draco walk away, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, _I'm sure he's gone to write a letter to his father and ask for tutoring help._

_Did I just take a big risk? Hermione's top of the class, but if Draco actually manages it... _Harry thought worriedly.

_Then you just have to come up with a way to prevent him from doing so, don't you?_

Harry's eyes widened, then narrowed thoughtfully.

With Gryffindor's victory in the Quidditch match, they were now over two hundred points ahead, and everyone seemed to be talking about how Slytherin would finally lose the House Cup, though Snape did his best to counteract the points. But one teacher could not counter the efforts of three, and Gryffindor's lead gradually widened. Wood wanted to hold even more trainings to cement their chances of winning the Quidditch Cup, but Harry and the rest put their combined foot down and beat the older boy down to twice a week.

In early December, Professor McGonagall went around collecting names for those who wanted to stay over during the holidays, and Harry didn't sign up. The Weasley brothers were forced to, since their parents were visiting their older brother Charlie in Romania, and no sane person would leave Fred and George without adult supervision given the havoc those two could wreak. As the temperature grew even colder, Harry was forced to move his archery practice indoors rather than let the cold damage his bowstrings. It was lucky he managed to find a gallery on one of the higher levels, and Hagrid was only too happy to make wooden targets for him.

The five of them who knew the truth kept an eye on Quirrell as discreetly as they could, the twins even going so far as to make the man the 'accidental' victim of some of their pranks, all in the name of 'softening up the enemy' as George told Harry. They landed in quite a number of detentions with Filch, but other than that, Quirrell made no move against Harry or any of them.

Harry's study group continued to grow as friends of friends came joining in during their free time, making the classroom they had commandeered rather cramped. Harry was forced to play peacemaker a few times when some Slytherins had come, and he did so with a firmness that startled and impressed everyone. His group was slowly turning into a symbol of House Unity, and surprisingly, Harry hadn't had to defend it from any of the seniors. From what rumors he could pick up, the fact that he stood up for anyone against bigotry was enough to earn their respect as the symbol of the Light that everyone saw him as.

His relationship with Hermione was also improving. After her etiquette lessons with Daphne had fixed her haughtiness, she had really mellowed out quite a lot, no longer acting so bossy with her intelligence to everyone else. Harry worked together with her to conduct a few practical science experiments, using their magic to substitute for some of the usual effects; they both loved learning, and bonded even more over it, though Harry found that he liked to tease the girl quite a lot.

The Ravenclaws, drawn by the lure of new knowledge, soon joined in, and Harry managed to get the shy Su Li to open up to him even more as they worked on learning more about science. Padma and Lisa also got to know him a bit more as the Non-magical learning group usually worked apart from the rest when they weren't focusing on the Hogwarts curriculum, giving Harry more time to know each of them personally. Harry wasn't sure why all four girls looked at him almost greedily when he demonstrated his ability to cook by serving them some of his fixed meals during their self-studying.

His popularity with the Hufflepuffs also made Susan and Hannah try to get even closer to him. Harry didn't really mind the female company though the other boys seemed averse to it, but something seemed off. However, when he asked Archer to explain why they did so, the spirit simply laughed at him and kept to himself, puzzling the boy even more. At least they didn't giggle as much as Parvati Patil or Lavender Brown, who still haven't gotten over that annoying quirk.

Harry also tried asking Daphne, causing the black-haired girl to look at him incredulously while her friend Tracey smothered laughter behind her. Despite the Gryffindor-Slytherin conflict, he quite liked her sharp tongue and even sharper wit, and they talked quite a lot about the Wizarding world and its many aspects. Bit by bit, he was melting through her ice-cool exterior that she always had on in front of everyone else, and Harry decided that he liked knowing a side of her that few even managed to witness.

One day, the castle woke up to find itself covered in several feet of snow, the lake frozen solid. Letters came rarely as few owls were able to fight their way through the stormy weather, and they had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could resume their mail-delivering duties once more. The Weasley twins added to their already heavy punishment load when they bewitched a few snowballs to follow Quirrell around and bounce off the back of his turban, and Harry got his first experience of a Howler when their mother sent them one. It was a shocking experience, and he thought he nearly went deaf afterwards.

"Your mother really has a voice on her, doesn't she?" Harry said to the twins one day.

"Indeed, we've had to live with-"  
"-her dulcet tones all our lives!"  
"She must certainly-"  
"-practice quite a lot!"

_Probably because of you two, _thought Harry. "Seriously, why do you let yourself get caught?"

The twins looked at each other.

"Are you telling me you never thought of not getting caught afterwards?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Well, young Harry-"  
"-we can hardly create a reputation-"  
"-if no one knows it's us who's responsible."

_So they only avoid getting caught while carrying out the pranks. With the use of the Marauder's Map to get around._

Archer nodded. _Yes... the question is..._

Harry asked what he and his passenger were thinking. "So why all the pranks? What's the purpose?"

Once more, the twins shared a look between themselves. Then they grabbed Harry by the arms and dragged him away.

Minutes later, Harry found himself in their private hideaway for the first time. He looked around interestedly; the place was filled with cauldrons and all manner of odd knick-knacks, a veritable mess that was enhanced by the note-covered parchment lying around.

"Amazing..." Harry breathed. "You're working on all this?"

One of them nodded. "That's right. You see, Harry, we have a dream."

The other twin started to speak as well. "Inspired by the likes of Zonko's and Dr Filibuster-"

Harry recognized the names. "You two intend to make a joke shop?" He guessed.

"What did I tell you, Forge? Ickle Harrikins figured it out already."  
"That you did, Gred, that you did."

"So all these..." Harry crouched down and picked up one of the sheets of parchment. _Looks like a general list of ideas._ "You guys are throwing your classes, aren't you?"

Forge shrugged. "They aren't really interesting enough for us."

Gred nodded. "We actually learn more trying to come up with ways to make our pranks works."

"Impressive." Harry whistled, looking through more of their notes. "I don't really understand some of these things yet, but I bet you can at least get OWLs in Charms and Potions."

"Aw shucks, you're flattering us."

_You're getting excited... _Archer observed.

_Should I, Archer? This seems like too good a chance to miss! If they can come up with things like this... _Harry left it hanging.

_Go ahead, I think it will do you good. Just remember not to hurt anyone._

Nodding to himself, Harry stood up and looked over at the twins, who had smirks on their faces. "A start-up's going to need money, isn't it? What would you say to some investment?"

They huddled together and started whispering excitedly. One minute later, they turned back to him and extended their hands out.

"We'd say, welcome aboard, partner."

Harry grabbed their offered hands and shook them firmly. "Glad to."

It took them a while to hammer out the details, but at the end of them, both parties were happy. Despite Harry's finances, he didn't really think it was a good idea to just throw Galleons to the twins, and in surprising show of sense, they agreed. So Harry offered to slowly finance their experiments, providing the occasional idea, in exchange for improved conduct and grades, plus the right to direct some of their pranks. It was slightly humbling for the twins to have him point out how close they came to bullying with some of the stuff they pulled. Eventually, after they graduated, Harry would become a shareholder in their business. Harry wrote down a reminder in his notebook to ask his foster parents about how to handle a business.

Everyone, Harry included, couldn't wait for the holidays to start. While the rooms were warm due to the fires in them, the corridors themselves were filled with chilling drafts, and the wind was strong enough to rattle some of the windows in the classrooms. Angry hisses were often heard in Harry's group when someone who entered forgot to close the door firmly and let the cold air in, until one of the older students charmed the door to shut automatically. Still, the worst of them was Professor Snape's dungeon, enough so that all the students huddled close enough to their cauldrons to risk setting their clothes on fire.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, Harry and his Gryffindor friends found their way blocked by a large fir tree, the large feet and loud puffing giving away Hagrid's presence behind it.

"Hi Hagrid." Hermione greeted.

"Oh, hi Hermione."

"Excuse me, Granger, but some of us would like to pass." Draco's drawl came from behind them.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry stopped her with a shake of his head. After the Slytherins had passed by, scattering needles as they pushed past the tree, she turned on Harry.

"Why did you stop me, Harry? He needs a good lecture!"

Harry just pointed back where they came from, where Snape was climbing up the stairs.

"Move along, all of you." He told them silkily, hardly bothered by the glares some of them were giving him.

"I really hate that greasy git." Ron muttered as they let Snape go ahead of them. "One of these days..."

"Come on, cheer up," Hagrid told the Gryffindors, "It's nearly Christmas. Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

Hagrid was right; the hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, while others glittered with hundreds of candles. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were working on adding even more to them, and the smaller teacher directed Hagrid to place his burden in the far corner.

"How many days have yeh got left until yer holidays?" asked Hagrid as the others drifted around admiring the place.

"Just one," Hermione spoke up, "By the way, Hagrid, we found out who Nicholas Flamel was."

"Yeh-!" Hagrid gasped out, then looked furtively around. "I tol' yeh not to go lookin' for him!"

"Don't worry, Hagrid." Harry reassured the big man, "We've decided not to meddle any further. Right?"

Neville and Hermione nodded.

"Oh, oh good..." Hagrid looked really relieved to hear that.

"By the way, Hagrid." Harry closed his notebook, having consulted it for things to ask. "When I come back from the holidays, mind letting me take a look at that bike?"

"Sure thing, Harry. But I'm not gonna let yeh ride it, you hear?"

Harry smiled. "Of course."

"Mr Potter? Did you just say you were going away for the holidays?"

Harry turned to look at his Head of House. "Yes, Professor. Why?"

"I have your name marked down as one of those staying over." The witch looked at him sternly.

Harry frowned. "I never put my name down at all. You asked around nearly two weeks ago, and I said I was going back, didn't I?"

McGonagall's expression showed that she was irritated. "Then how do you explain your name on the list?"

Harry already had some suspicions, but rather than voice them, he simply shrugged. "Probably some fangirl's prank."

Archer burst out laughing at the thought of referring to Harry's suspect as a 'fangirl', and even Harry's lips twitched in a smirk.

"Anyway, I really won't be staying over the holidays." Harry spoke up so that everyone could hear him. "I've already made plans to spend Christmas outside."

McGonagall finally nodded. "Understood, Mr Potter."

As they left the hall, the Gryffindors began speculating on which fangirl would be desperate enough to risk McGonagall's wrath by slipping Harry's name onto the holiday list, but Harry was thinking about the reasons.

_Dumbledore's up to something. As far as I know, he's the only one capable of doing something like that so easily._

_Agreed, _Archer told him, _He clearly has something planned for you._

_But what?_ Harry wondered.

Whatever plan Dumbledore had for Harry, the old man seemed very keen on making Harry stick to it, to the point that Harry received a letter from his foster parents saying that something had come up and they couldn't take him back for the holidays. But Harry simply burned the letter and went on his way, having sent off a note to Hermione's parents about the issue and receiving their permission to stay over with them, and not letting McGonagall think he was going to stay in any case. It angered the boy greatly, to know that someone was trying to manipulate his life by going as far as to influence his foster parents, to the point that he almost forgot about Quirrell sometimes.

Two days later, he was on the train with Neville and Hermione on the way back to King's Cross station. Dumbledore nearly managed to corner him at the last moment, but Harry's signal to Fred and George gave him the diversion he needed to escape.

"I can't believe those two!" Hermione huffed. "Setting off Dungbombs in a place like that!"

Neville kept quiet, but he shot a look at Harry, who noted that his shy friend wasn't as stupid as his grades showed him to be. He might have realized that Harry was avoiding Dumbledore, but he wouldn't ask about it unless Harry seemed inclined to talk.

The trip back was largely uneventful, though Draco came dropping by and they had a simple, meaningless conversation with early Christmas wishes being exchanged before the Slytherin left with his hanger-ons.

At the station, Hermione greeted her parents cheerfully, and Harry found himself wrapped in a grateful hug by her mother, who told him how glad she was that he was there for her daughter, causing Hermione to blush deeply. They got into Mr Granger's car, and drove away from the station, reentering the Non-magical world.

Hermione's room was just how he expected it to be: full of books, though he teased her about the stuffed teddy bear she had sitting on the bed, dodging her attempts to hit him even as the adults watched on with smiles on their faces. The guest room he was staying in was modestly furnished, but it was enough for Harry, who wanted to get away from anything remotely related to school for the moment, even magecraft.

His first Christmas away from his foster parents was an enjoyable experience, despite the Grangers' insistence on good dental care limiting some of the food choices. When Harry showed his ability in the kitchen, Mr Granger suggested that Hermione shouldn't miss the chance, something that Harry didn't quite understand though he laughed along with the adults at an embarrassed Hermione. He received a great deal of gifts from all his friends. Hermione gave him a book on Alchemy, while he reciprocated with some of his notes on magic. Neville sent over Chocolate Frogs, while Harry sent back a few preserved plant cuttings he knew the other boy would like. Fred and George got a list of Christmas-themed ideas with a card, while he sent each of his remaining friends in his study group things that fit his idea of them; Daphne, Susan and Su received a bracelet that Harry made himself, Tracey got some prank items he scored off the twins, Hannah got a few recipes that Harry often used, Padma and Lisa got books, Lavender and Parvati some makeup, the trio of Chasers some Quidditch-related items, and everyone else candy. It was expensive to shop for everything, but Harry had made enough from his quills that he didn't have to rely on what his parents had left him.

But Harry has something else to do. Early morning after Christmas, he dressed warmly and left the house, leaving a note for the Grangers. Holding out his wand, he called for the Knight Bus and paid the fare of eleven Sickles to go to Godric's Hollow, hiding his identity under a cap and scarf. There, he walked through the place, feeling the faint bounded fields belonging to the wizarding families who lived there, his breath misting in the cold morning air as he took in the Christmas decorations all around him. The whole place was unfamiliar to him, but he wasn't surprised - Harry might have been born in this place, but he didn't get to grow up here.

Harry stopped before the obelisk in the village square and looked at it. Between one blink and the next, it was no longer an obelisk, but a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. All three wore caps of snow from the weather.

The living version of the stone baby looked up at the faces of his parents. It was strange to see a picture of his parents now, after so long. He certainly never saw any pictures of them before, especially since Hogwarts didn't have any yearbooks, a fact that he had discovered after trying to look for Riddle's name. Glancing at the baby, he noted the lack of a lightning bolt scar on its forehead, before he continued on past the monument.

He followed his nose, sniffing out the bounded fields to find the wizarding section of the village, and it eventually led him to a ruined cottage which had a room on the top floor blown wide open. Despite having no wards on it, Harry detected magic on the gate itself, and touched the rusted metal to activate it, causing words to rise up out of the weed-infested ground.

**On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,  
****Lily and James Potter lost their lives.  
****Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard  
****ever to have survived the Killing Curse.  
****This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left  
****in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters  
****and as a reminder of the violence  
****that tore apart their family.**

Next to the epitaph, there were marks and signatures in ink and magic from all the wizards and witches who had come to visit the site of Voldemort's downfall, some with messages of encouragement and support that warmed Harry's heart, despite knowing that none of them had any idea of what he went through early on in his life.

Harry wiped his eyes, and turned away from the place of his birth. He still had one more place to visit.

It didn't take long for him to locate what he was looking for with his magecraft aiding him, and minutes after entering the graveyard, Harry stood in front of his parents' graves. It stood out amongst those around it in shining white marble, and he didn't need to bend close to see the words on it.

James Potter Lily Potter

Born 27 March 1960 Born 30 January 1960

Died 31 October 1981 Died 31 October 1981

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death__._

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death..." Harry whispered to himself. _What does it mean?_

_It's something that you have to find out for yourself, Harry. _Archer answered solemnly.

Harry bowed his head, paying his respects to those who had given his life so that he could live on. Raising his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wreath of Christmas roses.

"I should have come here on Halloween, Mom, Dad," Harry spoke to the gravestone, "Hell, I should have been here way before that. Sorry for coming so late." He laid the wreath in front of the grave. "I'm eleven years old now, you know. Learning magic at Hogwarts, like the both of you did."

He imagined that they were listening to him, and it made him smile tearfully. He wiped his eyes again and looked down at where his parents were buried.

"I'm doing fine. I've made friends." Harry wondered what else he wanted to say. _There's someone after me? Dumbledore's trying to meddle with my life? _"I'm..."

Finally he had it; he knew what he wanted to say.

"I'm going to live my life in a way that I know you'll be proud of. Just you watch."

With that, Harry turned around and left the graveyard, his expression determined.

* * *

Took me a while to get this out, especially since my skill with writing tends to fluctuate slightly. Thanks to all those who are still following.

I'm not really good with writing explanatory author's notes to discuss my own writing, plus it's quite late already and I've got to wake up early tomorrow, so just leave reviews as to what you think of the story.

Consider this a small request, but could you give me ideas as to what Harry might have to do for homework in Hogwarts? It would help make the story more realistic (magic isn't realistic, but you know what I mean).


	9. Seventh Spell

"Thanks again for having me over for Christmas, Mr Granger, Mrs Granger." Harry shook the hand of Hermione's father, then her mother.

"It's nothing, Harry. You've already done a lot for us by looking out for Hermione at school." The older man looked at Harry's trunk that was next to the boy. "You sure you don't need any help with that?"

"Positive." reassured Harry.

"Harry, come on! We'll miss the train!" Hermione called from up ahead.

Her parents chuckled as Harry sighed - that girl was a bundle of energy ever since she got up this morning, raring to go back to school. Despite him being younger than her by approximately ten months, Harry felt old just being next to her exuberance.

"We still have half an hour, Hermione!" He called back. Looking at her parents, Harry gave them one final nod of farewell, and pushed his luggage trolley after her.

After his Boxing Day grave visit (that Hermione showed some sense in not asking too much), Harry returned to his work mode, accumulating books and small items for the Science group, plus a few other knick-knacks for his magecraft and magic research. The entire thing resulted in his trunk becoming a great deal heavier, to the point that Harry almost considered using it as part of a weight-lifting training. Still, he could sell some of them off...

Emerging from the barrier and onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, Harry found Hermione waiting impatiently for him, her trunk still on the trolley.

"You do know," said Harry pointedly as he unlocked Ilya's cage, "That you could just levitate the trunk on board instead of waiting for me?"

The bushy-haired girl smiled sweetly at him. "But the male is supposed to chivalrously offer to help the lady, right?"

"This is revenge for that photo incident, isn't it?"

It happened when they were opening their Christmas presents; Harry had no idea how the twins did it, but they managed to put some unknown prank into their present for him, and he was debating whether to open it or not when Hermione came over to chastise him for leaving it unopened. How was he to know that she would end up getting hit by it and have her clothes transformed into a prince's costume? Her parents immediately took many pictures of it, and when she sought to grab the film from them, it turned into a game of tag that Harry found himself pulled into, running away from an irate Hermione with the camera in his hands.

"No, of course not," tittered the girl, "Why would you think that?"

"Beats me." Harry deadpanned, but he helped her bring her trunk aboard anyway. If she pushed things, he could always give the copy of the photo in his trunk to the twins.

Archer just snickered from his observation post in Harry's mind.

As Harry put Hermione's trunk up into the rack, she glanced out the window, and suddenly sprung up to stick her head out.

"Neville! Over here!"

Minutes later, the three of them were seated in the compartment. Or at least Neville and Hermione were - Harry was crouched down in front of his trunk, pulling out several different locks and placing them onto the seat.

"Had a nice Christmas, Neville?"

Harry glanced up without shifting his head, taking note of the slight shrinking in the other boy even as he answered, "It was okay..."

_What sort of reaction is that? It's like it _wasn't_ okay, but it's not bad either._

Archer came up with a possible answer as always. _Something unfortunate could have happened to him during that time. If you're that curious..._

_No, I'm not going to ask. _Harry thought back irritably, and closed his trunk.

"Thanks for the plants, Harry," said Neville.

"You're welcome." The white-haired boy answered as he took his seat next to his stash.

"What are you doing with those, Harry?" asked the ever-curious Hermione, peering at the collection of locks Harry had purchased.

One of the things that interested Harry was the purpose of the _Alohomora_ spell. His initial assumption of the spell was that it embodied the concept of 'Unlocking' and used it to unlock the target of the spell, but when he passed by a locksmith's shop during one of the shopping trips with the Grangers, he decided to look into the limits of the spell. Most locks in the Wizarding world utilized deadbolts in conjunction with lever tumbler locks, with the rare smaller ones using pin-tumblers. But when Harry had went in to inquire about what sort of locks the shop sold, he learned more about locking mechanisms than he had ever expected, such as wafer- and disc-tumblers, the combination lock, and the use of springs. And that wasn't all - the sight of a cabinet door held closed by a magnet led him to realize that magnets could also be used to create a locking mechanism. It was extremely interesting to learn how the small pieces worked together, but Harry's real purpose was to learn the extent of the _Alohomora_ spell; with no research that wasn't at least a century old, Harry had no idea whether the spell would work for some of the more modern locks, but he was itching to find out.

Whether it would work or not, Harry felt he would get closer to understanding how magic spells worked once he discovered the results for himself. He couldn't do so at the Grangers' due to the rule against magic outside, but now that he was on the train, Harry could continue experimenting. He bought one of every type of lock, even a tubular pin tumbler lock, just so he could conduct this test.

"Trying to see if _Alohomora_ works on all of these." Harry answered as he picked up one of the simple pin-tumbler locks. Taking out his wand, he tapped it and whispered the incantation.

It popped open. With his analysis magecraft, Harry could perceive how the pins shifted until the plug was able to turn, which caused the bolt to move.

"Of course _Alohomora _will work on all of-"

Harry picked up the combination lock and tried the spell. The mechanism rattled, but it didn't unlock.

Hermione went silent, and Neville was staring with his mouth open.

"Di-did you cast the spell wrongly?" She asked weakly.

Harry raised one eyebrow, before tapping the lock again. "_Alohomora_." He enunciated each syllable properly, but got the same result.

"How?" Neville asked in a hushed voice.

"That's what I intend to find out."

It wasn't the only thing that Harry intended to work on. He also had batteries, wires, a few glass instruments, some harmless chemicals, all sorts of items that would be used in a practical science experiment. The study group was going to be in for a busy time.

"Are you sure you'll have time for this, Harry? We're going to be busier the closer we get to the final exams. The teachers are going to give us more homework, I heard."

Harry had heard that as well. "This is extracurricular anyway. If it gets too busy, I'll just set it aside."

The trio spent most of the ride talking about their presents from their friends, Harry only partially focused on the conversation as he tested each lock in different situations and wrote down his observations and theories in a notebook. He was so focused, he barely realized when the lunch lady came and went. It was only late in the afternoon that he finally finished, and was about to deliver his findings when the door to the compartment slid open.

It was Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as usual. "I see you're with them again, Potter."

"Malfoy. Had a good Christmas?" Harry's voice was even as he pushed the locks into the cloth pouch he got for them.

"It was... acceptable." Draco looked over at Hermione, who met his eyes stonily. "Granger, I hope you're prepared to lose your top position."

It didn't have the level of venom his comments had at the start of the year, but her eyes narrowed when she realized just what he was saying - Harry might have broken her of her jealousy towards his excellence in class, but she wasn't about to suffer another person trying to muscle in on the top spot.

"We'll see." Hermione said coldly.

Draco nodded to Harry and left with the other two. Even as his friends wondered about the change in Draco, Harry was busy in consultation with Archer. _So he's made his move. _

_Yes. Have you given any thought about how you're going to hinder him?_

Harry fiddled with one of the locks through the fabric of the bag; a pin tumbler one, he guessed. _Partially. He wants to win this wager because it will give him power- _He shivered slightly at the thought of Draco actually winning the wager- _Power over me. In order to distract him, I need to set a lure of more power._

_And how will you do that? _prompted Archer.

_According to Daphne, Draco has been using his father's influence to get himself installed as one of the powers in Slytherin House. _Harry chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. _But if I can offer him something similar with the rest of the school... except that won't work since there's hardly any inter-House interactions._

_Not quite so, _Archer reminded the boy, _Your study group is a shining example of it._

_But it's not enough. None of them will accept Draco Malfoy even if he turned up._

_Then just make a group that will._

Harry froze as he realized how careless he had been for forgetting the idea; he had discarded it almost immediately because of the difficulties involved in actually _doing_ it, but hearing Archer suggest the idea led him see things in a new light.

_Archer, do you have any suggestions as to how I might go about doing that? _He asked tentatively.

The spirit humphed. _Are you familiar with student councils?_

Recognizing an impending long talk, Harry retrieved one of the thick tomes he had in his trunk and pretended to read while actually listening to the lecture being given in his mind. The more he heard, the wider the smile that spread on his lips. It would take a lot of work, but the long-term benefits would be worth it.

As evening approached, he finally met up with the other members of his group; Susan, Hannah, Su, Lisa, Daphne, and Tracey all came by, having been looking for him. Harry didn't understand why they seemed annoyed when he told them it slipped his mind to look for them, but he managed to mollify them with promises of cooking for them. He still didn't understand why Archer found it funny that his friends were angry at him, but he figured it was just another one of the hero's attempts to rile him up.

With a shock, Harry realized he wasn't getting angry as much anymore. Sure, his temper did get up when something annoyed him, like Snape being unfair, but he almost never lost control now. It did help that he could cook or shoot his bow, but... on a suspicion, Harry checked himself with his Structural Analysis, but was reassured when he didn't find any of those mind-altering charms that he had read about. Sure, he had a heroic spirit in his mind to watch out for such things, but the thought of his personality undergoing changes due to magic wasn't something he would ever like.

The group got off at Hogsmeade station, and took the Thestral-pulled carriages up to the castle, with Harry sitting with Su, Daphne and Tracey for the ride and talking to them about how they spent their holidays. When Daphne heard that he never spend Christmas with a wizarding family before, she insisted on inviting him over to her place next year, citing a need to see how well he was absorbing her etiquette lessons. Luckily Harry managed to distract them by 'discovering' that there was an invisible animal pulling the carriage, giving him the chance to escape into the castle and take refuge with the rest of the Gryffindors at the table before she realized.

_Very brave, Harry._ Archer mocked.

_Shut up. _Harry exchanged handshakes with the twins. "Had a nice Christmas, guys?"

"Not as fun as we expected."  
"The teachers were more focused on us with less students around."  
"So we had to keep a low profile."  
"But we're sure that-"  
"Yours was much more fun." They chimed together, and smirked at him.

"That reminds me," said Harry as he noticed a shock of brown hair approaching. "Hermione has something to say about that."

They turned to see what Harry was looking at, and shrunk back slightly at the look on the girl's face.

"Better run." Harry advised, "She's been reading up on lots of curses for this. And it doesn't look like she's going to stop just because you-" He didn't manage to finish.

"Bye, Harry!"  
"Be seeing you!" The twins turned and ran out of the hall.

"Fred and George Weasley! You two get back here!" screeched Hermione, chasing after them.

Chuckling to himself, Harry thought about how Hermione had changed. The former girl would have reported them to Professor McGonagall at least, but there was no denying that sometimes it was more satisfying to get revenge with your own hands. Personally, he didn't expect her to catch them - not only were the twins fitter and faster, but they knew the secret passageways and had the Map; Hermione would never catch them in a direct chase. Still smirking, Harry struck up a conversation with Ron, who told him about the extravagance of Hogwarts' Christmas dinner and some funny stories, like how McGonagall giggled when a drunk Hagrid kissed her on the cheek, or how Percy nearly broke his teeth on a Sickle hidden inside one of the puddings.

After dinner, they returned to their common room, where Hermione was resolutely waiting in one of the armchairs waiting to ambush the twins. Wishing her luck with that endeavor, Harry headed up to his bed, where his trunk was already waiting in front of the bed. Once again, he conducted his own checks on the place just to be safe, but there was something different - Harry climbed into bed without changing, and closed the curtains before examining the pillow on his bed.

_Archer? There doesn't seem to be any traps, but there's some magic I've never encountered before. _

_If there's no trap, then it should be safe to look. However, it's best not to touch._

Nodding in agreement, Harry flicked his wand and levitated the pillow up, revealing a roughly-wrapped package. With a few more swings of his wand, he unwrapped it, and was treated to the sight of some silvery-gray fluid inside. At first he thought somebody sent him mercury in an attempt to poison him, but then he recalled what his Structural Analysis had told him, and felt stupid for even think that. Picking it up, Harry found that it felt wet and slippery, like it was part water, but his fingers remained dry.

_You idiot. _Archer spoke with cold disapproval.

_What?_

_I warned you not to touch, remember?_

Harry winced. _Sorry. But I'm fine, aren't I?_

_That doesn't mean that you couldn't have been hit if there was a trap involved. Be more careful next time._

_Alright. _Harry scrutinized the thing in his hand. _It's a cloak. _"Structural Analysis."

The first thing he realized about the item was that it was old, very old. At least centuries, by his estimation. It was also quite powerful - the myriad enchantments on it were as old as the cloak itself, and yet it had not deteriorated in the least, possibly because the magic was sunk directly into the threads that made up the weave. It represented a new way of bespelling objects to Harry, and he eagerly dug out his notebook in order to take notes on it.

_Aren't you going to find out _what _sort of enchantments it has first? _Archer suggested.

_Sorry. _Harry apologized.

He took the cloak further into his grip, and found his arms invisible where the cloth covered them.

_I read of this, in that book about magical artifacts. It's an Invisibility Cloak, which are really rare._

_Then why would there be one right underneath your pillow?_

_Good question. _Harry sifted through the folds of the cloak, and found a note. _Oh look, _thought Harry with a hint of sarcasm, _a note._

The unfamiliar handwriting on it was narrow and loopy, taking Harry a while to decipher its meaning: _**Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very Merry Christmas to you. **_There was no signature.

Harry wondered who had sent him this cloak, and hit on an answer almost immediately. There were quite a few clues, but there was one that stood out the most: the final part of the message wished him a Merry Christmas, and Dumbledore had tried to get him to stay in the castle over Christmas, which would have led him to almost certainly receive this. He had no confirmation unless he asked the Headmaster himself, but Harry had a strong hunch that he was right.

Inspecting the cloak more closely with his magecraft, he found that the material had some sort of resistance to his prana, forcing him into a light sweat as his circuits strained to get a grasp on its existence. It was almost infuriating to Harry how the information would stay just out of his grasp as he channeled more and more energy through his circuits to get at it. By the time he stopped due to near exhaustion, all Harry knew was that the cloak would conceal its wearer, resistant to various forms of damage, and had a certain mark on one corner: An equilateral triangle containing a circle, with a straight line cutting through both.

_This cloak is impressive... to think it would resist Structural Analysis to this extent... this could be the precursor to a Noble Phantasm. _Archer sounded impressed.

_A Noble Phantasm? _Harry searched his memory.

_Noble Phantasms are crystallized mysteries that are used by Heroic Spirits, embodying their owners' concept as a hero. For example, when someone mentions King Arthur, what do you think of?_

_Excalibur, _answered Harry automatically, _or the Sword in the Stone._

_Correct, though those two swords are different. But they aren't limited to items, but can apply to abilities as well. Something like this cloak... would almost certainly qualify as one._

_So is it a real Noble Phantasm? _Harry asked excitedly.

_It could be. But it has to be involved in legend._

_Okay, look up wizarding stories. _Harry wrote that down in his notebook.

_Still, what are you going to do about that other pieces of magic that's been attached to the cloak?_

Archer brought up what was a very important issue with Harry's belated Christmas gift, the two charms that were on it, one for tracking, the other a compelling one that would go into effect once the cloak was worn. It was obvious to both boy and spirit that Dumbledore wanted Harry to go somewhere.

_Should I? Or shouldn't I?_ wondered Harry, fingering the material in his hands. _On one hand, I want to know what Dumbledore has in store for me, on the other hand, I don't want to give him any control over me..._

It took a lot of debating, but eventually Harry decided to go. Term would start tomorrow, and if Dumbledore had been so desperate to have him stay over the holidays, it probably meant that there was a time limit...

Poking his head out through the curtains, Harry checked that the other boys were asleep before pulling his head back in. Moments later, the curtains slid open and shut, and a pair of slippers vanished from view. The door then opened and closed quietly, leaving four boys sleeping in their beds, and an empty bed with its curtains drawn.

Harry ignored the Fat Lady's squawk of "Who's there?" as he left Gryffindor castle, walking aimlessly with the mild charm tugging his decision first one way, then another, leading him through the corridors of Hogwarts. Pausing to check the Map, he noted that only Snape and Flitwick were on patrol, and both were coincidentally far away on the opposite side of the castle. But just as he was about to put the map away, it caught his eye that in a room on the fifth floor, there was a dot marked with the name Albus Dumbledore, stationary in a corner.

A brief frown crossed his brow, but Harry continued onwards, his suspicions mounting with every step that took him closer. When he finally reached the corridor where Dumbledore was waiting nearby, it was very obvious how things were set up, especially with a single ajar door there. Dispelling the Map, he slid through the gap, and stopped in his tracks.

The place itself was an unused classroom that Harry had explored once before, but now there was a new addition to the unused desks and chairs that lined the sides. A tall mirror stood against one wall of the room, its ornate golden frame reaching nearly to the ceiling, perched on two clawed feet and facing him. Squinting slightly, he read the inscription carved across the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi, which didn't make sense to Harry. His eyes flicked over to the corner where he knew Dumbledore was, but he didn't see anything; not that he expected to, since anyone entering a room tended to look for others present first. Letting the cloak slip off his shoulders, Harry stepped closer to examine the mirror.

Almost instantly, he whirled around to check behind him, but saw no one. Frowning visibly as he felt his racing heart slow down, Harry turned back to the mirror, and took another look.

He was standing right there, but like his first look had shown him, he wasn't alone. Behind him stood many people, all smiling directly at him with pride in their expressions. A shock of recognition went through him as he saw Archer there, his lips quirked up in that expression of quiet approval.

_Archer? _He called, not taking his eyes off the mirror.

_What do you see, Harry?_

_I see you. I also see- _Another shock went through Harry as his eyes took in the pretty redhead and the thin black-haired man standing in there as well. _My mom. My dad. And... my friends._

Archer was silent. _I don't see anything, not even you in that mirror, _spoke the spirit after a moment.

Harry tore his eyes away from the mirror, rubbing them with the back of his arm. _What sort of magic is this? I felt... happy, just seeing you, them, in there._

_A lure... that inscription... I see._

_What? _Harry's thoughts sounded thick. He felt an urge to look into that mirror again, but resisted. _What about that inscription?_

_Look at it... in a mirror._

Harry looked up, forcing his eyes away from the reflective surface. "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." He whispered, thinking hard. "I... show... not your face... but your... heart's desire..." He deciphered the hidden meaning quickly, and felt a brief lance of rage, feeling a sense of being violated.

"That is correct, Harry."

Harry knew that Dumbledore was there in the room with him, but the man had been quiet for so long that hearing him speak now made Harry jump slightly. He turned to see the old wizard sitting on one of the desks in the corner.

"Professor Dumbledore." Harry tried to sound surprised, but only managed a half-effort. "I didn't see you, sir." He didn't meet the man's eyes, but looked at the star-patterned bathing robe the older wizard wore.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. "So, you've discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised, like hundreds before you."

"Delights...?" Harry murmured to himself, his eyes flicking over to where his mirror self stood, with everyone proud and happy... that _he_ was happy. "I don't think that's the right term for it, Professor."

"Yes, yes, you're quite right, Harry." Dumbledore seemed pleased, but then his voice dropped to a lower volume, setting a darker tone. "It shows those who look into it their deepest, desperate wishes, nothing more or less than the bottommost desire of their hearts. However, this mirror gives us neither knowledge or truth. As you may have surmised, men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or driven mad not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

"So what happens when one sees something that isn't in any way possible?" asked Harry, glancing at the bottom of the mirror. Wishing for his parents to come back to life was one thing, knowing that they wouldn't was another.

"Then he either dwells on his dreams and forgets to live," replied Dumbledore, "Or he simply accepts... and moves on."

Harry didn't say a word, but nodded instead.

"It will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and while I think that I have no need to say this, I must ask you not to go looking for it again. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

_Why, Archer? Why would he want me to come here? _

_Remember what I said about the Stone, Harry? If you know what someone wants..._

Harry understood that Dumbledore wanted some measure of control over him, but to bring him in contact with this mirror so he knew how to direct Harry...

"Harry?"

The boy met Dumbledore's sky blue eyes for a moment, before stepping back in front of the mirror and staring squarely at it. The scene in front of him called to him, tempting him with something that he knew he could not get, luring him to continue looking on in the vain hope that he might become a part of it instead of simply watching from the outside.

"Goodbye." He said to the people in there. _Fake they may be, but at least... they accomplish something._

For some reason Harry didn't understand, Archer radiated strong approval in his mind.

Harry wanted to ask Dumbledore more about the Stone, his Cloak, and Quirrell, but he decided that he didn't want to spend any more time with the old wizard, and so left quickly. That night, he slept rather well.

Later, he would find the storybook _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, and learn about the Deathly Hallows, but the Cloak of True Invisibility would remain in his trunk, with the tracking charm still on it. Knowing that he owned something reputed to belong to Death was impressive at first, but the novelty soon wore off in favor of other, more important things.

* * *

Harry ended his spell with a twirl. "There. That's done it."

He picked up the stirring rod he had been enchanting and held it out across the table to Neville, who took it almost reverently.

"So this will..." began the boy.

Harry nodded. "Help you practice your stirring in Potions." He smirked as a thought struck him. "You know, Snape said we weren't allowed to use self-stirring cauldrons, but imagine his expression if you said 'but I'm not using a self-stirring cauldron, sir, honest!'." (1)

"I-I don't think I could ever say that." Neville said with a shudder. "Still, thanks, Harry. I'll go try this out now." Neville left the table and went over into a corner to try out the item. However, his seat was soon replaced by Hermione.

"Harry, I really think you should be focusing more on your studies instead of this." She told him, sliding over the small roll of parchment in her hand.

"Professor Flitwick gave me extra credit for that _Alohomora_ paper I turned in," replied Harry as he took the thing and began reading through it, "He also excused me from some of the assignments for the time being."

_Alohomora, _or the Unlocking Charm, didn't actually involve the concept of 'Unlocking' like Harry first assumed it to be, but rather the 'physical' concept of a 'Key', a 'Skeleton Key', to be exact. After every single lock that used a key was found to be vulnerable to the Charm, Harry had tried damaging a few of them, blocking them with gum, transfiguring a part so the usual key would work or the turning mechanism was spoilt, and the Charm failed. Combination locks were immune since the 'key' in those cases were 'metaphysical' - there was no physical key to be applied in those cases. Flitwick was ecstatic about Harry's discovery, and told him he could have presented this as an OWLs project if he had gone slightly further by involving other spells in it. As things were, Harry got himself a bit of breathing space with the research, and was now focusing his attention on sabotaging Draco Malfoy's scholastic endeavors so as not to lose the wager.

In a perfectly legal way, of course.

Harry's secondary objectives for this student council were twofold in nature: he intended to break or at least weaken the hold the pureblood ideals had over the population, and reintegrate Slytherin back into the Hogwarts fold, especially since Archer had explained to him how the isolation might eventually force Slytherins to side with the enemy because they weren't trusted as a whole. While Harry didn't want to believe it, he trusted Archer when the spirit predicted that the Pureblood-Mudblood issue would eventually escalate until another war started, or perhaps even before then, and so he worked to counter it.

Hermione might have grumbled a little, but she helped nonetheless. Harry could tell that she actually enjoyed the challenge of trying to think of ways to improve on his idea, and appreciated the help she brought.

So far, Harry had the basic structure mostly down, and all that was left was a bit of spicing things up before he hit Draco Malfoy with it.

_Archer, is there anything else I might have missed?_ He asked the spirit, focusing his eyes on the parchment carefully so that his passenger could read it.

_I'd say that you'll be largely okay. _Archer confirmed what Harry already thought.

Nodding seemingly to himself, Harry rolled up the parchment once more. _Come to think of it, what position did you hold in your own student council? You were quite familiar with how one works from the way you talk._

_None. I was only friends with the Council President._

Harry blinked. _That's... close enough, I suppose._

"How is it, Harry?" asked Hermione, barely hiding her eagerness.

"It's perfect. You sure you don't want to be a part of this?"

She shook her head. "Not right now, I want to focus on my studying. But don't worry," Hermione added, "I'll always be there to help if you ask, Harry."

"Thanks, Hermione."

They smiled at each other over the table, before Hermione left to return to her homework.

Once term had resumed, Harry was back to having very little free time, especially since Wood seemed to have achieved a new level of fanaticism over the break, working the entire team harder than ever. Even the replacement of the snow by near-constant rain had failed to deter him, and more than once, Harry heard the rest of the team trying to decide if they should just stun their captain or not. He didn't really care if Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup (though Wood and McGonagall certainly did), and Gryffindor was already quite far ahead of Slytherin in the overall House Points (not that he cared about that either), so quite frankly, whether Gryffindor won their upcoming match against Slytherin or not, it didn't matter to Harry. Still, Harry was resorting to using his Assignment Quill more, but he made sure not to let his grades fall in any case. He managed to get a look at the flying motorcycle, and was impressed by how the various enchantments on the machine worked together to keep it in good condition and make it fly, and he took down lots of notes on its structure for future research.

His self-studying was paying off, since Harry found it difficult to forget what he saw as the natural physical laws of the world once he witnessed them in action. Given time, he was sure he could discover the reason why electronics didn't work at Hogwarts, but then again, time was a luxury he was low on.

So far, he managed to get support from his group for this student council idea of his, but Harry had yet to take it public. Today would be that day. He left the room and checked the Map to see where Draco was, and found the telltale dot on the first floor, clearly taking a path to the dungeons. Wiping it clean, he set off at a brisk pace so he could intercept the blonde.

When Draco walked around the corner, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Harry leaning against the wall, something which amused the white-haired boy quite a bit.

"Malfoy. Do you have time for a private conversation?" Harry jerked his head towards a nearby room.

Draco was about to speak, when he noticed Harry looking over first his left shoulder, then his right. "Crabbe, Goyle, stand watch outside."

"But-" Goyle started.

"Didn't you hear me?" demanded Draco.

Goyle grumbled, but didn't say anything further; Crabbe just stayed silent like he always did. Once the two boys were inside the room, Harry started out by bringing up Slytherin's notorious reputation, and offering Draco the chance to do something about it by putting his support behind Harry's student council idea. As he expected, the other boy was doubtful. So Harry made his first move.

"What if I said..." Harry spoke slowly, "That this may eventually install you as a student leader? Not just over Slytherin, but possibly all of Hogwarts?"

Draco blinked. "How so?"

"First, you, as a member of a so-called Dark family, will be in close contact with me, which everyone sees as a symbol of the Light, right?"

The other boy nodded.

"Of course, they won't trust you at first, but after a few years, more people will begin to trust you, believe in you, and eventually they'll follow you." Harry spoke carefully, stressing the points he was sure Draco would be interested in. "Especially... when I put my support behind you when the time comes."

"Go on."

_I think he's hooked. _

_He is, _confirmed Archer, _now just be careful about this. He might be a bit brash, but that doesn't mean he is stupid._

"I'm sure you already know the value of connections," stated Harry, briefly recalling his talks with Mr Granger about how knowing the right people could be useful. "Becoming a leader here..." He left it hanging.

Draco nodded again. "May mean becoming a leader in our society."

Nodding back, Harry continued, "I know Slytherin House is rather... close-mouthed about issues within its walls, but I must ask..." He directed a long, narrow-eyed stare at Draco, who fidgeted slightly. "Relying on another's power... versus power you've accumulated through your own efforts... which do you think is better?"

Draco didn't even hesitate. "The latter, of course." Then his expression changed as he realized what Harry was driving at.

"Let's put it another way," Harry went on with a slight upwards curve to the corners of his mouth, "With this, you won't need to say the words 'When my father...' so much."

The blonde flushed with embarrassment at being called out about his habit of threatening to run to his daddy in the face of trouble. "If... if what you say is true..." Draco spoke slowly, clearly considering his words before speaking them, "How many years would it take?"

Harry was prepared for that question. "At least three, maybe four years to lift your reputation. Once we're installed as part of the Hogwarts culture."

_He's wavering. Perhaps if you push now..._ Archer suggested delicately.

Harry acted; he slapped the top of the table between them lightly, jarring Draco out of his contemplations. "I'm offering you power, Draco Malfoy, in exchange for your support." He said bluntly. "Power that will be yours, and not your father's. Are you interested, or not?"

He could see Draco thinking furiously, wondering if Harry was working on a deadline or not. "Ca..." Draco cleared his throat. "Can I ask one question?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

"What's in this for you? Everyone already loves you because you're Dumbledore's Golden Boy. So why are you trying this as well?"

That was the biggest question that Harry expected; the House of Slytherin was built on cunning and ambition, and the chance at status and power were involved in nearly every decision made by any one of its members. Harry personally wanted a solid support base of friends, which his study group provided. All he was doing with this student council idea was to extrapolate things a little.

"Simple. To quote a great American leader, 'A house divided against itself cannot stand'. In order to advance as it should, our society must stand together." Harry conveniently left out that the leader happened to be a Non-magical. Or maybe Abraham Lincoln was secretly a wizard, but he couldn't find any mention of it before this.

"A Gryffindor notion." scoffed Draco.

"Is it really?" Harry smiled, then interlaced his fingers in front of his face, showing only his eyes to Draco.

The Slytherin opened and closed his mouth a few times, but eventually managed to speak. "I... I wish to have some-"

_Cut him off. Don't let him out of this without a clear answer!_

Harry trusted Archer's judgment many times before, and followed it once again. "As I said before, Malfoy, this is my offer to you directly. Not your father. I wish to hear your decision. Right now."

Harry got the measure of Draco Malfoy quite early on - the boy wasn't courageous, and with Harry forcing him into a corner like this, he would go with his typical Slytherin instincts to reap the benefits.

"You can't expect me to decide right away!" Draco tried one last protest.

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't. But the longer we delay, the less chance this idea has of succeeding." Harry countered with a spur-of-the-moment bluff.

Draco turned what Harry was telling him over in his mind, and finally nodded. "Fine. I don't like how you're forcing me to make this decision, Potter, but I'll go along with this."

Harry leaned forward and extended his hand. "I'm sure you won't regret this, Malfoy."

Draco reached out, and they shook hands.

After Harry left the room, he walked and walked until he reached a place without any presence, human or portrait. There he stood for a moment, before suddenly slumping against a wall, breathing hard.

_Damn, if that's how it feels like to conduct negotiations, I'm glad I didn't get sorted into Slytherin. _Harry thought, hearing the pounding of his blood clearly in his ears.

_You did a fine job of it by yourself, Harry. _Archer complimented him.

_I really pity Daphne now... having to keep track of all these factors just so that nobody can target her. _Harry tilted his head back until it touched the rough stone behind him. _Having a childhood like that... I can't decide whether it's better than living with the Dursleys or not..._

_I don't think living with the Dursleys is better than anything, judging by what you told me about your life with them._

_Guess so. _Sighing, Harry pushed himself off the wall and started walking again. _Time to get my stuff and go back to the dorm. I could use some sleep._

_Yes, it would be a good idea to rest up before you have to explain to your friends why you chose to include Draco Malfoy._

Harry winced at the thought of that.

* * *

"...so that's the final idea that I'm going to present to Professor Dumbledore after lunch tomorrow. Any questions?" Harry asked, not giving away his mental chant of 'Don't ask any more, don't ask any more'.

"Well," Hannah said slowly, "It _is_ a good idea... I mean, like I said before, I don't really know the names of anyone outside my house except those who're a part of this group. So it should work." She concluded.

"But what are you going to do if the other students object?" Tracey asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "Start off under probation, and show that we can achieve the right results."

"And those results are?" Daphne asked, a bit brusquely.

"One, show that we can lead, taking some of the load off the prefects. Really, why the teachers think it's a smart idea to place more responsibility on students about to take their OWLs escapes me."

"Harry!" Hermione chided from her seat next to him. She still didn't like hearing her fellow students speaking out against their teachers.

Harry held up his hands placatingly. "Okay, okay." Lowering them, he continued, "Two, we help to break down the inter-House barriers. I mean, from what I heard from some of the older students, there are couples who break up over one House beating another in Quidditch!"

"Hey! Don't make fun of Quidditch!" One of the twins objected.

"Okay, wrong example." Harry didn't want to waste time trying to argue that point. "Let's just say that most clubs tend to be restricted to a single House in their members. Like your brother, Ron, he's a bit of a chess fanatic, but I don't see him joining the chess club, which consists mostly of Ravenclaws."

"Point, that." The other twin nodded.  
"Maybe if you get him to join them-"  
"We won't have to prank him so much."

"Fred! George!" Hermione scolded.

"Sorry, mom."  
"We'll behave, mom." The twins spoke together, causing those around them to laugh even as Hermione blushed..

After a few initial failures to track down or ambush the twins, Hermione figured out that they somehow knew where she was without actually seeing her, and managed to use it against them by stationing herself so that they would go the way she wanted them to, causing them to fall for a trap she prepared beforehand with Harry's help. Then before they could retaliate and start a prank war, she got Professor McGonagall to catch them. It was very sneaky of the previously rule-abiding girl, and it earned her the twins' respect.

"But Draco Malfoy? You want Draco Malfoy as a part of this?" Susan blurted out.

"Would you rather he used his father's influence to sabotage it?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"But he'll be able to sabotage it better from the inside." The redhead countered.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think he will."

"How do you know?"

Harry didn't want to let them know about his agreement with Draco; he could see them taking it _very _well - 'Oh, because I promised to let him become leader eventually' - if he said that, they would probably start wondering if he was crazy or had been corrupted.

"It's a strong hunch. Trust me on this."

"Well, if little Harry says that-"  
"Then we'll go along with it."  
"But that doesn't mean that we won't prank the little git a few times."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't." Harry said dryly. "Any other questions before I move on?" He looked around, but no one else said anything. "Alright, so the roles are as such, a president, a vice-president, a secretary, and a general affairs manager. Normally there's a treasurer as well, but whether we'll have one depends on whether the teachers are willing to let us handle money."

He outlined the roles for them, putting himself as the president with Draco as the vice-president. After some discussion with the group, Su was chosen as the secretary while Hannah was selected as the general affairs manager. Both were rather timid, but Archer recommended them saying that they had a strong will, and Harry pushed for them to be chosen for those roles. The choices seemed to be based on the stereotypical perceptions of the four Houses, but Harry felt it was just a coincidence. The remainder of his group would stay out of things officially, but agreed to act as fringe members when the need called for it.

Now he just had to inform Draco about his new position so that the four core members could approach Dumbledore together. It went easier than he thought it would.

Like Harry intended, they made their move after lunch the next day; signaling the three with jerks of his head, Harry walked up onto the dais watched by everyone in the Great Hall for his impending conversation with Dumbledore, feeling quite self-conscious. Behind him, Su and Hannah were nearly shivering, and Draco wasn't much better, but all three followed behind him. He half-expected them to flee back to their tables when Snape started one of his usual insulting tirades, shooting sharp questioning glares at Draco over Harry's shoulder.

"Potter, what do you want now? Interrupting teachers' meal is just the sort of-"

Dumbledore interrupted "Peace, Severus. I believe Harry here wishes to speak to me." He looked expectantly at Harry.

_Here goes... _Harry took a deep calming breath and spoke. "Headmaster, the four of us have a proposal we'd like to put forward. May we speak to you in your office?"

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised a short fraction. "Certainly, Harry, I believe the first years have a free period right after this, and I believe all four of you have finished eating already?" They nodded. "Splendid. Then just follow me..."

As Harry walked out of the hall after Dumbledore, he caught sight of Hermione mouthing 'Good luck' to him, and the twins flashed him thumbs up. Feeling a bit more confident, he continued onwards, trailed behind by the other three. He expected Dumbledore to strike up some manner of conversation as they walked, but even when they reached the third floor, the old wizard had not spoken apart from glancing back from time to time as though checking that they were properly following him.

On the third floor, Dumbledore headed for an ugly stone gargoyle, which suddenly came to life and jumped aside, letting the wizard step onto a circular, ascending stone staircase that reminded Harry of an escalator. Looking back, he could see looks of awe on the other three students' faces as they followed up as well. At the top of the stairs, there was an oaken double door that Dumbledore pushed open, giving Harry his first look of the Headmaster's office.

The room was large and circular, and from the glimpse Harry got of one of the windows, he was in one of Hogwarts' many towers. The interior itself was by far the most interesting of all the teachers' offices; on many spindle-legged tables around the room were several silver instruments that whirled, squeaked, or emitted puffs of smoke, making Harry want to get a closer look at them. The lower walls had inbuilt bookshelves that contained books Harry was sure weren't present in the Hogwarts library, and above them hung portraits of the school's past Headmasters and Headmistresses, all quietly snoozing in their frames. A staircase led up to another area of the place, which Harry guessed was probably the residential area for the Headmaster, and in the center of the entire room was an enormous claw-footed desk. Behind it were a few shut cabinets, but what caught Harry's eye were the stand on which rested the school's Sorting Hat, and the perch on which a phoenix stood.

Dumbledore walked around the desk and took a seat in the high-backed chair there. "Have a seat, children." He waved his wand, causing four squashy armchairs to appear in front of the desk.

Harry and the rest sat down in them, glancing at each other waiting for someone to speak.

"So what is it you wanted to talk to me about, Harry?"

_Okay, now it's for real... _"You see, Professor," Harry began, pulling out the parchment on which the proposal was written, "I'd like to propose the formation of a new school committee..."

He talked on and on, never quite meeting the older man's eyes, explaining about how his proposed student council would promote and oversee social interactions between the four separate Houses, through the organization of meetings and events, as well as assisting some of the prefects in keeping the discipline during the day, taking some of the load off the older students, all under the banner of school spirit. As Harry explained each and every point, punctuated with the handing over of the relevant document so Dumbledore could read for himself (and stop him from trying to catch Harry's eye), he privately felt thankful that Hermione and the others had done such a great job in listing out the basic problems with the traditional system so he could emphasize the positive aspects of this proposal. There would be no adult participation in the committee apart from the brief student-teacher interactions, any undertaking was entirely voluntary, and it would be an independent organization, fully autonomous. In his mention of helping out the prefects and teachers or improving the school culture by directing the clubs, he didn't doubt that Dumbledore would miss the underlying implication of breaking down the Pureblood ideal or removing the Slytherin's stigma.

"And that's the purpose of this committee." Harry finished, never actually using the words 'student council' in his presentation.

"That is quite the concept you've come up with, Harry. I confess I was worried that you might have been trying for something that you're still too young for, but I see you've covered a fair number of points."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said evenly. "As for being too young, that is why we are limiting our influence to the first year students for the time being."

Dumbledore nodded. "May I ask who will be the leading members of this group?"

"The four of us, sir." Harry looked to his sides, where Draco, Hannah and Su sat waiting for the final decision.

"I've also noticed how you've managed to gather students from all four Houses together as a general study group. Very impressive, but do keep in mind that it's been tradition to have students growing up in their own House."

"I've also considered that already, sir," Harry replied glibly, "Some of the events can be geared to promote intra-House unity besides inter-House one. In any case, we can always ask the prefects for help if we need any." His tone implied that he didn't think he would.

Dumbledore was silent, and Harry looked around; the other three appeared to be on the edge of their seats, wondering if this idea of Harry's was going to be rejected or not. As for Archer, the spirit was carefully watching Dumbledore through Harry's eyes, not saying anything through their mental connection. He knew that both Snape and this old wizard had some wizarding form of Mystic Eyes that allowed them to affect their target's mind through eye contact, judging by the prana that he always sensed whenever Harry made momentary eye contact with either of them. From what he knew of Mystic Eyes, they were usually activated by the use of prana through them, but it seemed like these wizards had them on nearly constantly, with no apparent drain on their reserves. Then again, Harry also had more energy than Archer ever did, even at this young age.

"I see no need to reject this proposal, so I will allow the formation of this committee." Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully even as the four children exchanged excited looks amongst themselves. "I must say, I'm looking forward to what you will do as the President of this Student Council, Harry." (2)

"Student council?" asked Draco, the only one who didn't know of the name of the original idea that Harry was using.

"Yes, I believe this idea is quite similar to the student councils of the Asian schools."

"Is that so?" Harry lied, feigning ignorance.

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded once more. "Well, I believe you all have classes approaching, so it's best that you hurry off right now. I will contact you later with regards to a room for your student council."

"Thanks, Professor Dumbledore." Harry thanked the man, and left the room with the others right behind him.

"We did it! We got the idea passed!" Draco was saying as they went down the stairs.

"You didn't do anything!" Hannah pointed out, but she was smiling herself.

"This is great, isn't it, Harry?" Su asked, but the smile she had vanished when Harry turned and met her eyes. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I hope you all haven't forgotten that this is only the beginning." Harry said mildly, making the three of them pause in mid-step. "We've got work to do before anyone is going to take us seriously."

"It'll be easy enough." Draco said dismissively. "How hard could it be?"

Harry still didn't understand why Archer would react in such a way to that statement, but it felt right for him when he echoed the dramatic sound effect that the scarlet-clad hero made. Personally, he expected more opposition, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore was just letting him do this for some other reason than it being a good idea.

As Harry had predicted, the Student Council's formation wasn't smooth sailing from the start; being only restricted to the first years meant that few of the older students took it seriously, and from what Harry observed, most wizards expected instant results, and he had to reassure Draco into calming down on more than one occasion, especially since Draco's abrasive personality began to show itself as they started to work together. Their first task together was cleaning up the room they were given to make a proper office, and Draco hardly lifted a finger, instead setting Crabbe and Goyle to doing it for him. It annoyed the others, but Harry kept them from saying anything too harsh, instead trying to persuade the other boy into at least be seen doing something. It worked, although Draco complained a lot, and Harry expressed his anger by making strangling motions behind the blonde's back, amusing the others and keeping them from actually acting on their own emotions.

The second part went smoother as they began working to consolidate their power over the first years, mostly thanks to all the influence Harry already wielded. Despite Draco's power in Slytherin House, Harry and Daphne were both right in identifying Draco's actions to be more Gryffindorish than Slytherin, and when Harry was able to demonstrate a softer way of applying power, Draco started to follow along interestedly. Each of the four dealt mainly with their own House, explaining the views and objectives of the Student Council to their respective House members, and becoming their House representative on the Council itself. It took a while to break Draco of his habit of trying to lead the group, but Harry eventually managed it, and the meetings went more smoothly afterwards. He also complained less about the work as people started complimenting them for their efforts (some of it arranged by Harry), and actually began to act more maturely. For their first event, Harry's idea of a Hogwarts tour proved to be surprisingly popular (most students already knew how to get to their classes, but they were less familiar with the castle as a whole), especially when he enlisted the help of ghosts and portraits to present more about the history of the castle itself, and even a few of the seniors came along as the word started to spread. Eventually he outsourced the idea to what would become the Hogwarts Explorers Club, freeing the Council up to focus on other things.

Next was getting the various clubs under their banner. This was one job where Harry forced Draco to sit out and simply watch rather than try it himself, since he didn't trust the other boy to not offend the other students with his typical demands (despite no longer trying to lead the Council, Draco's abrasive personality still remained). Using all the skills of persuasion he had, Harry managed to get the leaders of the clubs to allow him to coordinate between them and the students, and with the assistance of his group, the clubs began balancing out their membership between the Houses as students became less shy about crossing House borders.

Harry worked fast, sacrificing his exploration, magecraft, self-studying, even going so far as to beg off a few of Wood's trainings to make the Student Council a success (though he cooked the occasional meal to relax himself). The older boy didn't like it at first, but Harry proved his ability by ending the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match in less than a minute with a capture of the Snitch before either side could score. He noticed that Snape had volunteered to be the referee, and guessed that the Potions teacher was doing it in order to protect him from Quirrell, whom Harry continued to avoid outside of class. While Harry thought that the broom cursing was the end of Quirrell's revenge for the troll, Archer just felt it would be prudent not to give the turbaned man any more chances.

Of course, the Student Council met with its share of opposition; Percy Weasley felt that they were trying to steal power for themselves, but Harry (with stomps on Draco's foot to stop him from saying anything insulting) feigned an earnest desire to help the fifth-year prefects get used to their OWLs workload, and managed to placate the stuck-up redhead with that reason. His younger brother Ron wasn't as easy to deter with his ironclad views of Slytherin being evil, until Harry got tired of it and just told the boy to get out so they could work on improving the school. The remainder of those against the Student Council kept their mouths shut, waiting for Harry to screw up something before they pounced like hyenas to tear his creation to shreds. He knew Snape was only waiting for his chance, held back only by the 'independent of teachers' rule, but he had Archer on his side, and the heroic spirit almost never steered him wrong.

Since Harry forced Draco into his decision without consulting his father, the white-haired boy kept a close eye on his Vice-President, knowing that Draco would have written to his father almost immediately about the Student Council. Judging by the lack of interference, Harry was betting that his father approved of the deal he had cut with Harry, but oddly, there didn't seem to be any change in Draco's grades. If anything, Draco was doing a good job as the Vice-President, acting as a sort of balance to Harry in the Student Council. Hannah and Su were slowly becoming more outspoken as Harry pushed them into tasks that called for them to be more proactive, and sometimes their discussions brought a smile to his face, especially when they shot Draco down on some of his decisions. The Student Council was turning out better than he expected.

As March and the Easter holidays came around, Council work tapered off only to be replaced by schoolwork, as the teachers and Hermione started preparing for the exams in ten weeks, which most students felt was far away. By now, Draco had become a fixture as part of the study group, though still excluded somewhat, despite having mellowed out quite a bit.

"Harry, isn't that your owl?" Susan's voice made him look up one afternoon.

Ilya was hovering outside the window, one of Hagrid's typical scribbled notes in her beak. Feeling an odd sense of guilt for not visiting the giant man lately, Harry opened the window and let her land on his outstretched arm. He took the note from her and began breaking up some of the cookies for her to eat while he read it.

**Heard you've been busy, but I've got something interesting for you to see. Come on down this evening.**

"What does Hagrid want, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Just asking me for a visit since I haven't been down for a while." Harry nibbled his lip. "Well, I think I could use a break..." He wasn't sure if Hagrid wanted him only, or whether he should bring Su, the Hufflepuffs, or Neville along. There was no point in even asking Hermione.

As though reading his mind, Neville shook his head. "Count me out for this one, Harry. I really need to study." Neville might have been improving in practical spellwork, but his theory still suffered from his poor memory.

The Hufflepuffs refused as well, but Su agreed, and the two of them left the castle after dinner. Heading down to the hut, they found it with all its curtains drawn. Hagrid called out "Who is it?" before he even let them in, causing alarm bells to start ringing in Harry's head, and the hasty way Hagrid shut the door after they entered only served to alarm him further.

It was stifling hot inside. Despite the weather being rather warm, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Su looked on the verge of passing out already, but Harry suddenly sneezed as his nose helped him realize just what Hagrid invited him to see.

"Hagrid... what's that under that kettle?" Harry coughed, rubbing his nose with one hand while supporting Su with the other.

"Ah," Hagrid was fiddling with his beard, "That's er..."

Putting Su near a window with a cup of water, Harry advanced closer towards the flame, and crouched down; it was a huge black egg, sitting cozily among the extremely hot flames.

"Is that what I think it is?" Harry asked softly.

"Yeah, that's a dragon's egg."

"How did you get it? I don't think anyone sells dragon eggs."

"They don't." Su spoke up from behind them. "Dragon breeding's been outlawed since the seventeen-hundreds. It's illegal outside of the dragon reserves."

"Hagrid?"

"Won it las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was right glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest." Hagrid confessed.

Harry frowned. _Of course anyone would be glad to be rid of something that's illegal. _Something about it made him suspicious, but he wasn't sure what. "Hagrid, I know you like dragons, but this... are you seriously intending to hatch it?" He could sense Archer watching on with interest.

"O' course, I always wanted one. See, I've been doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book out from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library, _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_, a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire-"

"Hagrid," Harry interrupted, "You live in a wooden house. A dragon will send it all up in fire."

Behind him, Su nodded furiously, her wide eyes fixed on the ovoid shape in the flames.

But Hagrid wasn't paying attention. "An' see here, how ter recognize diff'rent eggs, what I've got is a Norwegian Ridgeback, they're rare, them," said the giant man, pointing at a page in the book with a branch-thick finger.

He looked very pleased with himself, but neither of the two children did as they left the meltingly hot hut to return to the castle.

"On top of studying, Quidditch practice, and the Student Council, I now have to deal with this." Harry grumbled.

"Do you?" asked Su, stopping suddenly. "Why do you have to deal with that? It's not like it concerns you or anything."

"Because it's the right thing to do." Harry answered. Hagrid, despite his rough exterior, was a friend, and Harry didn't want Hagrid to get arrested because of this mistake.

Su eyed him thoughtfully, then walked closer. "You're amazing, you know that, Harry?"

"Whuh?" was all Harry could say in the face of that unexpected comment.

She suddenly leaned in and kissed his cheek, before running off in the direction back to Ravenclaw Tower.

Harry just stood there dumbstruck, a hand pressed to the spot where her lips touched. _What was that?_

Archer just smirked.

The homework continued to pile up, and even Harry began to have some difficulties trying to clear it all, even with the new quill he created to automatically detect the blanks for the answer and write down what he said in them. He kept Hagrid's secret to himself, inventing a story about a Bowtruckle that had gotten injured, claiming that Hagrid wanted to show it to him before setting the creature free.

Then one morning, Ilya came with another note during breakfast: **It's hatching.** Unfortunately, because of his facepalm, Hermione managed to peep at the note and saw what was written. In the end, Harry swore her to secrecy, and the three of them went straight down after Herbology (since Hermione refused to skip any class), the next period thankfully free.

"It's nearly out." Hagrid greeted them at the door and ushered them in quickly.

Hermione let out a small scream at the sight of the giant black egg on the table, and the others quickly shushed her. But their attention was drawn back to the egg, which had deep cracks over it and was shaking around with a funny clicking noise from the inside. The atmosphere crackled with excitement; the four of them drew up chairs and sat down to watch.

They didn't have long to wait. A scraping sound, then the egg split open, causing what looked like a crumpled black umbrella to spill out. It then unfurled itself to show the newborn dragon.

Its spiny wings were the most prominent feature, larger than the skinny jet black body. Harry's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the long snout and wide nostrils, and met its bulging orange eyes with a tense stare. It looked back at him, then they both sneezed simultaneously, the dragon spraying sparks from its snout, while Harry tried to deal with the strong smell of prana the dragon was giving off.

"That was... funny." Su said in a strangled voice, and Hermione giggled.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured, reaching out to stroke the dragon's head, but it snapped at his fingers. "Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!"

"Hagrid," Hermione spoke, finally coming to terms with the seriousness of the situation, "How fast does this dragon-"

"A Norwegian Ridgeback." Hagrid corrected.

"How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?"

"They are able to fly at about six months, and can breathe fire around one to three months." answered Hagrid absently as he gazed fondly at the baby dragon.

"So there's only one month before this place is in danger of burning down." Su whispered, but Hagrid didn't hear, being focused on trying to pet the dragon without letting it bite him.

Harry and Hermione didn't really like hearing it, but seeing the dragon try to take bites out of Hagrid made them realize that if they were to stop Hagrid from getting into trouble, they had to act quickly.

* * *

(1) Once again, the ideas are from BajaB's Harry the Hufflepuff...

(2) And December Morning Owl's Neville Longbottom and the Harry Potter.

Well, that's another chapter. Personally, I don't really know much about how it's like to run a student council, and I don't want to lift too much from DMO's story (I don't lift directly), so I compressed that portion a lot. Hopefully it's good enough to satisfy my readers...

Every HP fanfic tends to add its own twist to the magic, like swearing on life and magic, soul bonds, etc. I doubt I'll go that far, but I had Harry analyze a single simple spell in his own research to learn more about magic, and I think it went well.

As usual, review to help me improve, please. My random style of writing might be okay, but one should continuously try to do better.


	10. Eight Spell

Harry closed his book and rested his forehead on the cover.

"What's wrong, Harry?" He heard Susan ask.

"Just tired..."

"What's that you're reading? Mmm..." He could sense her presence drawing closer. "Is that a book on dragons? Why are you reading that?"

"I was just curious about the difference between the ones in fiction stories and actual dragons."

There was no way Harry could tell her that he was looking up on a way to contain any potential fallout by first analyzing the dragon's abilities. What he found wasn't reassuring, and in the one week since he started, the dragon had tripled in length, having fed on lots of brandy and chicken blood. Judging by the way it kept emitting smoke from its nostrils, it was most likely one of the fast-maturing ones that would be breathing fire by the end of the month. But with its care taking up nearly all of Hagrid's time and stopping him from carrying out his duties as the gamekeeper, chances were that it wouldn't take even that long before the secret was out. To make matters worse, Hagrid himself hardly seemed to care about the consequences, despite Harry, Hermione and Su's attempts to convince him otherwise. Just last night, Hagrid even named the dragon Norbert, and Archer told Harry that naming the beast meant that he would find it harder to give it up in the future. They had to find a solution, and quickly. It meant the loss of important study time, but that was better than the alternative, in Harry's opinion. He could have gone to Dumbledore for help, but a desire not to rely on that aged wizard kept him from doing so.

He actually discussed with Archer whether it was possible to keep Norbert somewhere around Hogwarts, but so far all of his explorations had failed to find any place large enough to hold a growing dragon, and Hagrid couldn't very well raise it in the Forbidden Forest. No, with the time limit, the only solution Harry had was to find some way to get the dragon away from Hogwarts. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he was forced to kill it, which was why he was currently searching desperately for that solution. So far he was unsuccessful, which was why he started on his current undertaking.

"Did someone say dragons?" The twins had overheard.  
"Somebody certainly did."

"I didn't expect you guys to be gossipmongers?"

They put their hands on their chest in a wounded gesture.  
"You wound us, Harry."  
"Would we do that?"

"If it benefited your pranks, you would." Daphne said softly.

The twins pretended not to listen.  
"But really, Harry, real dragons are bad news."  
"Our brother Charlie works on a dragon reserve in Romania."  
"Gets all sorts of injuries from them."  
"Burns, bites, claws-"

"Okay, okay, we didn't need to hear that," snapped Hannah, to the nods of the others.

But Harry exchanged glances with Hermione. This was their lucky break. He met up with the redheads in their hideout, erecting a bounded field just in case before he started to talk.

"Guys, I need you to write to your brother."

"Which brother? Bill works as a cursebreaker for Gringotts-" The one wearing the sweater with an 'F' on its front, which meant he was Fred, said.

"Charlie. This is a dragon-related issue."

George nudged his brother. "Looks like this is serious."

Fred nodded. "Take a seat, Harry. Tell us what's going on."

It didn't take long for Harry to inform them about Hagrid's new dragon, and make the request for them to write to Charlie to ask him about taking the Ridgeback away. The twins were awed to hear that the man who chased them away from the Forbidden Forest so many times had such a secret kept in his hut, but they agreed. Except they had one condition.

"We have to see it for ourselves at least."  
"How often does one get to see a baby dragon outside of a reserve?"

Harry answered the rhetorical question. "Almost never, because it means getting close to an angry mother dragon."

Later that night, the three of them went down to Hagrid's, where the twins got their wish while Harry gave Hagrid the 'bad' news.

"Hagrid, it's too risky to keep the dragon here. At least if we send it to a reserve, it'll be able to grow up in its natural environment."

The big man bit his lip, clearly torn over the decision.

"You can't feed it on brandy and chicken blood forever. It's going to need more food than that the more it grows."

"I can feed Norbert dead rats," suggested Hagrid.

"I'm talking about cows, Hagrid. People will notice eventually. It's best to move it now, while we still can!"

"Harry's right, Hagrid. This is one feisty little bugger."  
"Just look at the size of those fangs!"  
"Wouldn't want to get bitten by them, that's for sure."

If Harry had any qualms about getting the dragon away from the school and the children, they were gone now. Hope that Hagrid would have been able to tame its wild nature was nothing but a foolish dream.

In the end, Hagrid agreed to at least try sending an owl to Charlie, after Harry subtly let slip that there was a chance Charlie would be unable to take the dragon; it was an illegal one, after all, and it might mean Charlie's job.

"Don't worry, Harry. Charlie's one of us Weasleys too." The twins told him as they left Hagrid's hut.  
"He'll do the right thing. Even if it's against the rules."  
"He and Hagrid were great friends, actually."  
"So he'll help out for sure."

Harry snorted as he pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "I don't doubt it." He whistled.

Ilya came flying down out of the sky, landing on Harry's outstretched arm. He had made sure that she was on standby for this task, warning her before he came down to Hagrid's.

"Take this to Charlie Weasley, Ilya. It's important, so be quick." Ilya hooted with a nod, and let one of the twins tie the envelope around her foot. "And be careful."

The snowy owl made a sound like a snort, as though saying 'Who the hell do you think I am?', before giving him an affectionate nip and taking to the air.

"Now we wait." Harry said grimly.

The twins and Hermione promised to keep an eye out for Ilya when she returned, so Harry focused his attention on Student Council work in the meantime. Their success so far and Harry's encouragements had led to more new clubs being formed.

"Draco, do you have the documents on clubroom allocations?" Harry asked, looking through the stacks on his desk.

"It's with Hannah." The Slytherin replied without looking up from his own work.

The Hufflepuff girl handed Harry the documents he wanted. "Here, Harry."

"Thanks. Draco, is that Wizarding Fashion Club satisfying the requirements for formation?"

"One second." There was a sound of parchment being flipped through. "Here it is. They've got five members already, and have met two times so far over the last two weeks." Draco snorted. "Fashion. Just like _girls_ to care about that."

"This coming from a boy who spends at least an hour on his hair every day." Su murmured, causing Hannah to choke with stifled laughter.

"I do _not_ spend an hour on my hair!" protested Draco.

Harry hid his grin behind another document. "Enough, we've only got twenty minutes before curfew starts, so let's finish up quickly." He ordered.

In five minutes, things were largely completed, and only a few documents were left to stamp and sign. Harry glanced at Draco, then suggested that the girls go back first while the boys took care of that remainder.

"I assume you wanted to talk to me?" Draco asked as he started stamping the documents and handing them over to Harry, who signed them.

_I knew he'd figure it out_, thought Harry."Yes. How are you finding the work so far?"

He didn't miss the flicker of a grimace on the blonde's face. "It's... harder than I expected."

"I hear your father has the ear of the Minister of Magic." Harry spoke as though he was discussing the weather. "Perhaps you could ask him what work is involved at that level?"

He didn't look up, but he heard Draco snort derisively. "That bumbling fool Fudge? Father says that the current Minister is a weak-willed idiot who can hardly make a decision without running to Dumbledore. He rarely looks at the stuff he signs off on, too."

_So Dumbledore's got Ministry influence despite not being the Minister. _"Do you look at what you sign?" asked Harry, looking over the document in his hand. It mentioned an altercation between two Gryffindors and three Slytherins not too long ago; he had broken it up before things had gotten out of hand, and referred the people involved to a prefect.

"Of course I do." Draco cut off right there, but Harry was sure he nearly said something more about that matter.

"So you should know, sometimes hard work is just that important. That's why no matter what people might say," Harry finished the last of the documents and put it into its correct pile, "Hufflepuffs are important to our society."

The other boy looked like he only partially agreed with that sentiment.

_He still thinks in terms of Houses, while you think in terms of qualities. _Archer made the observation.

_Yeah, it's quite annoying how so many people tend to stereotype others according to those names. _

Harry was fairly sure he would never get used to the wizarding way of thinking. When one could just wave a wand and say the right words to get the effect desired, it eventually leads them to start thinking that if it failed the first time, it meant that it wasn't possible at all. Then that style of thinking carried over to everyday life, which was why people like Ron Weasley stuck to the first stereotype they heard, like Slytherin equals evil, for example. There was also the fact that when one could do all sorts of chores in an instant with magic, they tended to get lazy in other parts of their lives too. Harry vowed to only use magic when the situation really called for it, and do everything else by hand; that led to some amazing arguments with the house elves in the kitchens when he wanted to clean up after a meal.

"But they won't be the leaders of our society." Draco commented.

"Who knows. I hear Cedric Diggory in fourth year is quite the leadership type." Harry countered.

"He's still a Hufflepuff."

Harry glanced at the clock he commandeered from another empty room. "We'll have to discuss this another time. Good night, Draco."

Charlie's reply came on a Wednesday night, after the Gryffindors came back from their Astronomy class at midnight. Harry always cleared any homework he received first thing upon returning, since he had the unfair advantage of needing less sleep, and Hermione always accompanied him, initially out of her competitive attitude, then as she became more relaxed about studying, did so because of her friendship. The others preferred to delay things, and usually went straight to sleep upon returning.

The portrait hole opened and closed, and the twins suddenly stepped out from thin air. Fred (Harry thought it was Fred) tossed the Invisibility Cloak to him, and Harry packed it away. Both twins looked pale, as though something had frightened them.

"Never saw Hagrid get like that before."  
"Nearly as bad as crossing Mum."

"What did you do, set off some fireworks to scare Norbert?" Hermione asked, her tone dripping with disapproval.

"We just tried to make Norbert beg for its meal."  
"How were we to know it would try to take a bite out of us?"  
"And Hagrid thought we were frightening it on purpose."  
Both of them shuddered. "Nearly shouted our eardrums out."

"You were lucky it missed, then," said Harry as he rolled up his completed homework, "Norwegian Ridgebacks are poisonous."

Their faces turned an ill shade of green at that bit of information, but before they could reply, there was a tap at the window.

"Ilya!" Harry went over to the window and let his owl in. "Glad to see you made it."

"What did Charlie say, Harry?" George asked.

**Dear Fred & George (and Harry Potter),  
Of all things I expected you two to write about, I never thought you'd write about a dragon. Glad to know you're still getting up to your hijinks (Don't tell Mum I said that). Sure, I'll be glad to give Hagrid a hand by taking the Norwegian Ridgeback. It won't be easy, but I've got some friends of mine coming to visit next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.  
Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.  
Send me an answer as soon as possible.  
Love,  
Charlie  
P.S. Harry, be careful of anything those two offer you.**

Harry petted Ilya before sending her back to the Owlery with instructions to rest and come back for a reply during the morning meal, while the others looked at each other.

Fred spoke up first. "It shouldn't be too hard to get the critter up to the Astronomy Tower, especially with that marvelous cloak of yours, Harry."

His brother nodded. "It's big enough to cover you and Norbert."

"We'll lend you the Map."

"Wait, what map is that?" Hermione demanded, her eyes alight with curiosity.

The twins took one look at her and shook their heads.  
"Sorry, Hermione."  
"This is a top secret prankster's secret."  
"We can't share it with you."

From the look on Hermione's face, it was like she had been given a valuable book for her birthday, only to have it taken away at the last moment.

When Harry and Su went to inform Hagrid the next day from outside the hut (Hagrid refused to let them in, saying Norbert was undergoing a tricky stage), the giant man's eyes filled with tears, even though Harry reassured him that Charlie would welcome him to the reserve whenever he wanted to visit Norbert. Personally, judging by the looks of Fang's bandaged tail as the dog sat morosely outside the hut, Harry and Su agreed that it was best that Norbert left the place as soon as possible, even more so when the dragon caused the hut's windows to rattle just by banging its tail on the wall.

Time dragged by as Harry waited for Saturday to come. In the meantime, he was scouting out the location like Archer told him to, taking note of the important passageways and shortcuts that led to the bottom of the staircase to the place, and observing the patrol routes leading to that place over the next two nights. The twins and Hermione weren't much help as the girl did her best to find out what the map was, even going so far as to try to enlist Harry's help, but he put his foot down with that.

"I told you, Hermione. It's their secret. What sort of friend would I be if I gave it away to anyone who asked?" He finally told her on Friday.

She stopped pushing after that. Despite her shift in personality, Hermione still didn't have anyone else besides Harry whom she could call a true friend, and she didn't want to lose the relationship they had just because she crossed a line. While she might have confidence in her own studying and memorization skills, she wasn't confident enough in her friendship with the others, and treaded carefully around them. It would take time before she grew comfortable with having more than just a single friend, Harry thought.

_What do you think, Archer? _asked Harry as he sat up that night watching the location on his copy of the Map. _It's quite risky._

_You're right. You've only had two days' worth of information on the patrol schedules, and the place has a long single route leading up to the base of the long staircase. It's best to have a plan B besides simply carrying the dragon up there directly._

Harry nibbled on his lip. _Too bad it's even riskier to try flying up there on my Nimbus. I know that I can remain hidden under the cloak, but... Think! Think!_

_What about some non-magical methods?_

_That's the same as carrying it up- _Harry paused, recalling one of the recent things that the Science Club was researching into in conjunction with Muggle Studies.

He had an idea after all, but he would need to work fast to test whether it would work or not.

The moment Saturday dawned, Harry rushed down to the Great Hall and ate quickly, before retreating to his workshop to start testing out the materials he would need. Transfiguration would work for the time being; he could get the actual materials later. He eventually left the place five hours later, in order to sate the hunger he worked up from using all that magic and magecraft, but with a smirk on his face.

Harry expected Hermione to demand where he had been, but not with the panicked expression that greeted him when he entered the Great Hall for lunch.

"Harry!" She hissed frantically, "Where've you been? We've got trouble!"

After a hurried lunch, the five of them found an empty room to talk.

"I'm sorry! I wrote a reminder note for myself and left it lying around, and Pansy Parkinson took it!" Su apologized tearfully.

While Draco might have supported Harry in the Student Council, Pansy was one of those who opposed it. According to what Harry remembered of her, she was quite unpleasant, with a vicious streak combined with a gossipy nature, kind of like an evil Lavender Brown. She would have lost quite a number of points for everything she did if not for Snape protecting his snakes. If Pansy got the note, she would almost certainly try to get someone in trouble with the information.

"Calm down, Su," Harry was thinking furiously, "What did the note say?"

"Saturday midnight, Astronomy Tower," hiccupped the girl, "Harry, what will we do?"

"We could prank that snake."  
"Hit her until she forgets about it entirely." The twins were serious; Hagrid was a friend to the Gryffindors.

"We can't do that!" cried Hermione, scandalized.

"Then what should we do?" demanded George. "It's tonight, if you remember!"

_I'd say the risk level for Plan A just went way up. Right, Archer? _Harry spoke in his mind even as he rubbed his chin in a thinking gesture.

_Go with Plan B, Harry. _The hero advised, and Harry nodded.

"Alright, I got what we're going to do." Harry spoke up, silencing the others as they looked at him. "Listen closely..."

Half an hour later, the group broke up to deal with their separate tasks. The Weasley twins vanished down into the dungeons, Hermione and Su left to watch Pansy, and Harry headed down to the kitchens. After all the arguments he had with the elves about trying to do things himself, they were ecstatic to get a request from him, and he soon left with a book bag that bulged a great deal more than it did when he went in.

The Astronomy Tower was normally off-limits to students outside of classes, but Harry got into it by getting to Professor Sinistra and asking her for permission to retrieve something he forgot, taking advantage of the nocturnal teacher's drowsiness to get the key and pass from her. Once he was up there, he began looking around, surveying the rest of the castle from the highest point.

_Hagrid's hut is on the north side, while this place is on the far east side. As expected, I don't have a direct view of the place. _(1) _In that case, the next is to... _Harry didn't take any notes, but memorized the information he needed as he explored the area enclosed by the parapet and the surrounding towers. _Okay, got it._

The next place he went was down to Hagrid's, where he worked out the transport arrangements. It was crucial since he needed to know just how heavy Norbert's 'travel carriage' would be.

The group reconvened after dinner in the same room as before.

"Pansy's been giving me sneaky smirks nearly all the time." Su complained, having gotten over her panic and now feeling angry about the whole issue. "I really wanted to hex her, but Hermione wouldn't let me."

"We think she's told Snape or Professor McGonagall about this, though we're not sure. They've been studying Su as well," added Hermione.

"What about you, guys?" Harry asked the twins.

"We got the stuff you asked for."  
"But Snape might started poking around later."  
"So be careful not to get caught."

"Could you please stop with that switch-speaking? You're making my neck hurt." Hermione complained.

"Enough of that," interrupted Harry, "We've got a dragon to send off."

The night turned out to be dark and cloudy, and Harry and Hermione made it down to Hagrid's hut slightly later than intended as they had to wait for Peeves to leave the entrance hall. Hagrid was waiting for them, and helped them to dose the dragon with a strong sleeping potion that the twins stole from Snape, before packing the sleeping Norbert into the large crate for travel. Hermione made a disgusted face when she saw that the inside of the crate had a number of dead rats.

"He's also got his teddy bear in case he gets lonely. Bye-bye, Norbert," Hagrid sobbed as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the cloak and stepped under it themselves, "Mommy will never forget you!"

Harry groaned mentally, but focused on carrying the crate with Hermione supporting the other side. They went up two flights of staircases, until they reached a landing where they could see Gryffindor tower.

"Hermione." Harry whispered after checking that no one was around.

The witch bent down and stuck her wand out from underneath the hem of the cloak, and muttered a short incantation. Blue flames shot out of the end of the wand before vanishing. She repeated it two more times before Harry whispered for her to stop. One of the dark windows suddenly flickered with the same blue color.

_Three quick flashes, that means the straight route is a bogey. Pause. Two slow flashes. All clear for Plan B. _"Come on." He hissed, and they picked up the crate once more.

They continued onwards, going up another two more flights of stairs and passing through a corridor full of sleeping portraits. Eventually, they reached a dead end with a giant open window, and set their burden down. Looking out the window, they could see the Astronomy Tower looming in front of them.

Hermione kept a lookout while Harry went over to the suit of armor in the alcove nearby. His bow was right where he left it tucked behind the armor, as well as a small box containing a few matches and a few wooden rings. Retrieving them, he rejoined Hermione and used his wand to transfigure one of the matches into a blunt-tipped arrow, and one ring into metal. It was magic beyond the first year syllabus, but Harry had been practicing ahead for months already.

"Ohhh, we're not supposed to use Transfiguration outside of class..." Hermione mumbled worriedly, biting her lower lip.

"None of that now. Hand me the rope." Harry instructed.

Hermione reached into the bag she had with her and pulled out a heavy coil of thin rope that Harry had gotten from the house elves. Thanks to _Hogwarts, A History_, Harry knew just how tall the Astronomy Tower was, and calculated for the length of rope he would need. Also, Hermione was used to carrying heavy books around, which gave her the muscles needed to lug the rope and the other item that Harry had asked the house elves to get for him.

Harry threaded the rope through the ring, feeding it through until it reached the halfway point. Next, he opened his own bag and took out the second of the potions the twins had procured. This one was an adhesive that would last for two hours at least, and he painted the tip of the arrow with the brush that came with it, before sticking the arrow carefully onto the ring, taking care to retain the overall balance of the missile and avoid getting any of the glue on the rope itself - he didn't want to have to try again.

Harry then picked up the bow and put the modified arrow to it, drawing the thing back and releasing it slowly a few times to get used to the action. A few whispered commands had Hermione coiling up the ends of the rope and putting it on either side of Harry on the windowsill, before she painted the outside edge of the ring with the adhesive. Once she was done, Hermione nodded and stepped back, looking between Harry and his intended target nervously.

The boy exhaled slowly, before breathing in for the important part. "Trace... on." He spoke the aria of Archer, triggering the magic circuits they shared to Reinforce the bow for this normally difficult shot, and the arrow itself so that it wouldn't break on impact.

He was now ready.

One breath. Two breaths.

"Go," The archer breathed, and loosed.

The coils made a soft whipping sound as the arrow pulled on them, and the bolt flew true to hit the side of the Astronomy Tower with a thud that sounded rather loud even from this distance. Hermione quickly moved to stick one end of the rope to the side of the crate.

Harry wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and put the bow aside. "What's the time?"

Hermione checked her watch. "Ten minutes to midnight. We need to hurry!"

They worked in sync; Hermione retrieved a large folded bunch of cloth, opening it up to reveal a giant bag of cloth, which Harry transfigured into nylon and cast an Expanding Charm on, like he had practiced all morning. Around the edges of the bag were long straps that they secured to Norbert's crate with the adhesive, before putting the rest of the bag to hang out the window. The final part of the makeshift hot air balloon was an attached plate made out of parchment that Hermione placed her Bluebell flames on while Harry arranged the bag so that the opening was over the flames.

She checked the watch again, and let out a moan of despair. "Five minutes! We won't make it!"

"Use the Hot Air charm! Like this, a right swing then clockwise twirls, more twirls to add heat," Harry demonstrated, ending with the tip of his wand aimed through the opening. "_Exuro ventus!_"

The balloon suddenly jerked as a gust of searing hot air blew out of Harry's wand, pushing out the colder air.

"_Exuro ventus!_" Hermione followed, and they kept casting the charm until the balloon was straining to carry the crate, causing scraping sounds as it dragged across the floor.

"The note! Don't forget the note!" hissed Harry as he suddenly recalled a portion of the plan.

Hermione scrabbled at her robes, and finally pulled out a piece of parchment which she stuck on top of the crate with a Sticking Charm, just as the bottom of it cleared the windowsill. Harry gave the balloon another blast of hot air and the crate a light shove, sending it drifting towards the Astronomy Tower, while Hermione began drawing lightly on the other end to help it along. Meanwhile, Harry kept an eye on the sky for Charlie's friends, occasionally glancing behind him; they had been here quite a while already, someone might be coming by on patrol at any time...

"Lightly... lightly..." He cautioned Hermione, who kept pulling on the rope. "Okay, enough! We don't want the balloon to touch the wall!"

Hermione released the rope, exhaling explosively. "We did it!"

The two of them watched the faint blue flicker ascend up the side of the tower, going higher and higher until it reached the parapet, upon which Harry grabbed onto the rope and held on tightly, bracing himself against the window. Suddenly, Hermione darted back to grab the Cloak, and covered the two of them with it.

And not a moment too soon; a brief glow made their heads whip around. Filch was standing at the far end of the corridor, the light coming from the lantern in his hands. Harry and Hermione held their breath, watching, waiting... Then Filch grunted, and walked onwards, with Mrs Norris following at his heels.

"That... was close..." breathed Hermione, who sounded on the verge of fainting.

Harry agreed, but didn't say it out loud. He looked up, relying on his Reinforced eyes to see through the Cloak, and gasped. "There! They're here!"

"I can't see them, it's too dark!"

"Shh!" Harry hissed, and began a commentary for her. "Okay, there are four of them... on broomsticks... they're looking around... they've seen the crate." He felt the rope in his hand shift as the people started fiddling with the crate. "Okay, they're reading the note..."

Hermione sucked in her breath sharply when she saw the end of the rope fall down the tower, having been cut off from the crate just as the note instructed. Harry kept an eye on the top of the Astronomy Tower while he began pulling the rope back in as fast as he could. The people up there were doing something that secured the crate to their broomsticks - one of them waved down in the direction Harry and Hermione were, and they flew off.

_How did they see us? We were under the Cloak!_

_They wouldn't even have seen you given how dark it was, _answered Archer, _but they could see where the rope led, and that person probably just guessed. You could have been somewhere else and he would have waved anyway._

_Oh._

Harry finally finished collecting back the rope, and handed it over to Hermione, who tucked it back into her bag. The cloth bag would have been taken away by Charlie's friends to be disposed of elsewhere, and he had his bow slung over his shoulder. After one last check to ensure that there was no evidence left behind, the two of them began making their way back to Gryffindor tower. The glue would wear off, and the ring would fall onto the roof below, while the arrow would revert back to its original form of a match. No one would know what happened unless Harry or Hermione told.

It took Harry a small lecture from the Fat Lady about being out after hours, but they managed to get back into the common room, where they fell into the chairs with huge sighs of relief.

The twins were already waiting on the couch. "How did it go?"

Harry gave them a thumbs up. "Perfect. We nearly got caught by Filch at the end, but it turned out okay. How were things at the Astronomy Tower?"

The twins looked grim for a moment.  
"Good thing you never went there, you two."  
"Both McGonagall and Snape, and even Filch one time, were patrolling around there."  
"Snape caught Parkinson, but let her go."  
"Then McGonagall caught her." They grinned.

"I'm never doing that again." Hermione spoke up, her eyes fixed on Harry.

"There won't be an again, Hermione." Harry reassured her.

She didn't say anything for a moment. "It was a good idea to use that hot air balloon, though." The girl finally said.

They sat there in silence for a while, though Harry could see that the twins wanted to know just what was a hot air balloon and how he used one.

_Actually, _Archer suddenly spoke, _what would you have done if the hot air balloon had failed to take off?_

_I'd probably send a note tied to an arrow- _Harry stopped. "Damn it!" He exclaimed.

Hermione shot up in a panic, as did the twins. "What? What? What's wrong?"

"My Plan C would have been much better than my Plan B!" Harry felt quite stupid indeed.

* * *

The five members of the group met up for one last debrief by the de-facto leader Harry, whom they pressured to divulge the events of last night.

To Harry, getting the dragon out of the castle first just had to be broken down into its separate objectives, which could be summarized into three basic steps: getting down to Hagrid's to pick up the dragon, delivering the dragon up to the top of the Astronomy Tower, and finally returning to Gryffindor tower, all without getting caught. Since the inside route had been guarded by McGonagall and Snape, he had chosen to go by the outside route instead. However, the Levitation Charm wouldn't have sufficed due to its limited range, which was why Harry borrowed the idea of a hot air balloon from his science books instead. It took him a while to create a material that could contain the hot air as well as discover the volume of hot air required, but he luckily managed it within the span of a single morning. The whole thing was ingenious, earning Harry the respect of Su and the twins.

Except he could have just sent a message with his bow and avoided all that hassle. Hermione was annoyed that he didn't think of that earlier, since it would have saved her from going through all that stress last night. The twins felt otherwise, telling Harry that they wished they had gone along for that.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It was kind of exciting, to be honest," admitted Harry, to Archer's amusement.

Hermione punched him in the arm.

"But still, I've got a few questions about what you did last night." She said, looking at the white-haired boy as he rubbed his arm. "How was your bow able to shoot that far, and what was that you said before shooting?"

_She's really too sharp and curious... good thing I expected this and thought of a way to hide my magecraft. _"You know the charm we use to straighten parchment? I found out that casting it on the bow increases the stiffness of its limbs, which in turn increases its power and range. As for what I said, that's just a phrase I use to help me focus on my target. It's something like meditation."

"Can you teach me?" She asked eagerly, before recalling that Harry was already very busy. "Sorry, I forgot you're very busy with everything you're doing nowadays..."

He waved it off. "Don't worry about it. Just wait for the summer holidays and learn it then."

"Aren't you forgetting about the exams before that?" Su interrupted, smiling slightly.

"Hah!" Hermione jerked upright, and started digging around in her bag. "I was so focused on Norbert I totally forgot to study for the past few days!" She wailed.

Harry looked over at the twins, who had been busily writing down stuff in their notebooks. "You guys don't seem too bothered."

"Well, young Harry, you see, when you reach our age-" Fred began sagely.  
"-You'll realize that it is important to have fun while you still can," concluded George, nodding.

Harry, Hermione and Su all snorted at that.

The aftermath proved to be somewhat trying for all members of Gryffindor House as, like the twins warned, Snape went on a warpath to try and find the missing potions, which Harry had Ilya dispose of somewhere along the way on a letter trip to his and Hermione's parents. While the non-Slytherin Houses lost points for trivial acts of misconduct that other teachers would normally ignore, the House of lions' lead over the rest of the school was reduced to nearly nothing, but no matter how much the students complained, McGonagall didn't do a thing to stop it apart from giving more points to make up the balance, which only spurred Snape to take even more. Hermione had lost nearly all respect for Snape, and she snapped a few times at the twins as though blaming them for causing Gryffindor to lose points, until Harry took her aside and pointed it out to her on Archer's advice; she stopped immediately and apologized to them. Harry's troubles also increased even further, as in addition to having to weather through more of Snape's immature grudge attacks, he had the students coming to him saying that McGonagall wasn't listening to them.

"I know about it already, Parvati." He told the Indian girl, trying not to let his voice show his exasperation with yet another complainant. "I'm going to bring it up with the teachers, trust me on this."

After she had left, the entire Student Council let out sighs, except for Draco.

"Draco, can't you do something about this?" demanded Hannah, shooting a sharp look at the Slytherin. "Every day we have at least two students coming to us complaining about Snape, and lately some of the older students are as well!"

"What do you expect me to do, Professor Snape isn't going to listen to me." Draco replied, but in a drawl that made him sound uncaring.

"Ravenclaw lost nearly thirty points just yesterday, and Hufflepuff nearly forty!" Su added, consulting the list for the numbers.

"That's because none of us Snakes would have stolen any potions from him." The boy shrugged nonchalantly. "The only culprits would be someone from the other three Houses."

_This just proves my theory that the House Point system is practically useless. _Harry thought, furious as he recalled how Snape had Vanished his improved potion and gave him a 'T' and a detention for making a nonexistent mistake, just yesterday.

_That Snape really is a bully, isn't he? He's been trying very hard to get you angry, and it looks like he's annoyed that you aren't meeting his eyes. _Ever since Archer warned him the first time, Harry made sure never to look Snape in the eyes, even going so far as to cross his own when Snape ordered him to make eye contact.

_If it weren't for you, I think I might have reacted a few times, Archer. Thanks. _Harry had a feeling that Snape suspected him as the mastermind behind the thefts, which fuelled the man's attacks on Harry.

_You're welcome. But you still have a detention to do. _The spirit reminded him.

Harry sighed, glancing over at Draco. Lately, the Slytherin boy had started to regain some of his initial arrogance, acting aloof about the points war that was going on. It wasn't surprising; apparently no one else apart from Harry had realized that the House Points system was a way to control the student population through peer pressure, and Slytherin House naturally wanted to continue their winning streak.

_But you know, _Archer spoke in Harry's mind, _If everyone else cares so much about the points, there is a way to completely spoil it._

Harry blinked. _How?_

_Remember how does one earn House Points?_

Harry began listing the ways; it was a short list: one earned points by pleasing a teacher who would give it, and... "Quidditch." Harry whispered gleefully.

Harry suddenly stood up, a wide grin on his face, knocking his chair back and causing the other three to look at him. He dashed straight out of the Council office, calling over his shoulder for the others to look after things for a while. If Snape wanted to break the points system in his grudge, Harry would retaliate through the same way.

Scrambling through the portrait hole into Gryffindor tower, Harry dashed up the dormitory stairs, ignoring Percy's orders to stop running, and found Wood in his room trying to come up with plays against Ravenclaw. After ten minutes of furious talking to convince the Quidditch fanatic, he was off again, this time heading up to Ravenclaw tower. He had been near the area only once before, and had yet to cover the place in his explorations. This time, he followed it all the way using the Marauder's Map, and soon found himself standing in front of a bronze eagle-shaped knocker mounted on a large piece of aged wood in the wall. Unsure about whether it was the right way to do, Harry knocked on the handle-less door, hoping someone inside would hear and open it for him.

The beak of the eagle opened, and a soft musical voice issued from it. "I have towns but no houses. Lakes but no water. Forest but no trees. And mountains but no rocks. What am I?"

_Huh? _Harry was stunned at first. He didn't expect a riddle, but apparently he had to answer it to get in.

_Wizards and witches seem to have little logic, remember. Which makes a riddle a rather good defense for the House of the wise._

Seeing Archer's point, Harry turned his attention to trying to solve the riddle. No matter how he thought, he saw no way for any of those to exist in real life without the components that made them up, which meant that it was something like a picture- Harry hit upon the answer; he had been using a version of it to get where he was now in the first place.

"A map."

"Correct," answered the voice, and the door swung open.

The Ravenclaw common room was shaped the same as its Gryffindor counterpart, but wider. The whole place had an airier feel to it compared to the lions' den, with large windows that allowed the Ravenclaws to gaze out right over the mountains and a star-painted dome ceiling. Living up to its stereotype, the common room had bookcases and study desks littered around for its occupants to do what they loved best, and most of the desks were taken up by furiously studying people. As Harry took one step into the place, he noticed a niche directly opposite the door, occupied by a tall statue of white marble. His curiosity itched for him to scan the place with his magecraft, but he resisted and focused on what he came here to do.

"Excuse me!" He called out, and received multiple shushes in return.

Then someone looked up. "Hey! What's a Gryffindor doing here?"

The other Ravenclaws reacted to that, and more people looked up from their books. "Huh?" "He's right, that's not one of us!" "It's Harry Potter!" "How'd he get in here?" "The Boy-Who-Lived!"

Harry scowled. He hadn't heard that moniker for months already, but it looked like some nicknames just stuck. "Could I please talk to the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain?" He called out again, and someone went to call down the person he asked for from the dorms.

It didn't take as long as it did as it did for Wood for Harry to convince the older boy to go along with his plan once he promised to arrange for the two team captains to meet up for further discussion. In the six years Snape had been in Hogwarts, the unfairness that had won Slytherin the House Cup each year had become the stuff of horror stories the senior students told their younger counterparts, so any chance to strike back at the greasy-haired git was greatly welcome. Harry's plan was simple in essence; one team would give the other free goals until the score reached a thousand, before the other team did the same, and the true match would begin after the scores were equalized. (2) Once he got the Ravenclaw Team's agreement, Harry dashed back down, this time heading for the Hufflepuff common room. The badgers were even easier to convince since they enjoyed working together with others, and if Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were working together, they would gladly join in as well. Harry gave the Hufflepuff team captain the time and date for the captains' discussion, and took his leave.

But the plan wouldn't go into action until the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match in May, after the school exams. In the meantime, Harry had other things to do. Namely, watching Quirrell, since both Hermione and Neville were too busy trying to study to keep an eye on that faker. With Archer guiding him and the Map, Harry had been able to track the turbaned professor around the castle a few times a week. He noticed something strange with Quirrell's name whenever it came up on the Map; where others had their name displayed clearly apart from the usual flickering that came with his Traced copy, Quirrell's name seemed to be scrambled up, as though overlapping with some other name that made it nearly impossible to read the middle of his name. It was odd given that the typical error from his Traced copy was a flickering of the name or the dot that represented the person, but Harry wasn't sure why it would occur.

Then, about a week before the exams, Harry overheard Quirrell's voice.

"No... no... not again, please," It sounded like he was pleading with somebody who was threatening him.

Harry darted into a corner and brought out his copy of the Map even as he Reinforced his ears. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He whispered, tapping the Map with his wand.

"..." He heard a different voice hiss, too faint even for his enhanced hearing.

"All right... all right..." Quirrell sobbed in reply.

Looking down at the Map, Harry frowned as he watched the dot with Quirrell's jumbled up name move out of the room and go down the corridor in a direction away from him. _There's no one else there... who was he talking to? _Peering out, he saw the man hurrying swiftly away, adjusting his turban.

"Potter. What are you sneaking around for?"

Harry leapt away from that voice reflexively, tucking away his Map and wand before turning to look. Snape was standing there, looking directly at- Harry quickly dropped his eyes to avoid meeting those dark orbs.

"Well?" Snape asked expectantly.

"Professor Quirrell was talking to somebody up ahead just now, sir. I didn't want to eavesdrop, so I waited until he left."

He could feel the stare boring through him. "Is that so... I suppose you can learn not to stick your nose where it shouldn't be after all..."

Harry just kept silent; Snape had taken points for him before for backtalk when he had only been asking for elaboration. He didn't care about the points, but he didn't want to cross the line over into detention.

Coincidentally, Snape was actually looking for him, to inform Harry that due to circumstances, the detention he had with the Potions teacher after dinner tonight was now transferred to Filch at eleven o'clock, and he was to meet the caretaker in the entrance hall at that time. Harry didn't want to know what sort of circumstances they were, but surely it was good that he managed to avoid spending personal time with the Slytherin Head of House?

When he went down with Neville, who had also gotten detention for melting another cauldron (his partner that time hadn't been Hermione), Filch's first words made him think otherwise, and made him see that the rumors about the caretaker were true.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking the rules again, won't you, eh?" The untidy man leered at them. "It's a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by the wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've still got the chains in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed..."

Neville shrunk behind Harry and whimpered, while Harry just stared incredulously. Who hung children up like that anymore?

The sound of footsteps made them turn to look; Pansy Parkinson had joined them. In the wake of the dragon incident, Slytherin had lost thirty points and she had received a few detentions for it as well. The girl sneered at them when she noticed Harry looking at her.

Filch lit a lamp and headed out of the castle. "Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

Crossing the dark grounds, Harry was wondering just what Filch had in store for them. According to the older students, Filch usually had them scrubbing floors or cleaning other parts of the castle, but he hadn't heard of anything that would take him outside of it. The man was clearly a sadist of Snape's level, judging by the glee in his voice as he muttered on and on about what they might encounter."

The moon was shining brightly, nearly at its full state. Harry ran through a mental list of potions ingredients that were reliant on being collected on a full moon, when he realized the route they were taking was familiar. Just as he did, the voice he associated with that route shouted out to them.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Neville looked up almost hopefully, but Filch glanced back and saw. "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy... it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

All three students stopped walking.

"The forest?" Pansy said shrilly. "We can't go in there at night! There's all sorts of dangerous things in there!"

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with sadistic glee. "Should've thought of those beasties before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Neville moaned in horror, but Harry was starting to get angry. _Dumbledore warned the students to avoid the forest because it was dangerous, and now they're sending us in there on detention? Something is seriously wrong with this school._

_It could be Hagrid's fault. You know how he is regarding the definition of 'dangerous'._

Harry blinked. _Why are you defending him, Archer?_

_I'm not. I'm just suggesting reasons why you would be going into the forest on detention._

_What other reasons are there, then?_

_The teachers like McGonagall or Snape have no idea that Filch is doing this. _

Harry frowned. _That's... really irresponsible. I'm losing more respect for McGonagall now._

Hagrid came striding out of the shadows, with Fang at his heel. Seeing the giant crossbow and quiver of bolts the man carried, Harry felt a bit naked carrying only his wand. He knew that Archer could provide him with any weapon he needed through Tracing, but it would have been reassuring to actually hold one right now.

"Right abou' time," Hagrid said, "All right, Harry, Neville?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," Filch said in a cold voice, "They're here to be punished, after all."

"I'm not going into that forest!" Pansy protested, the panic evident in her voice.

Filch and Hagrid both turned to look at her. "You will if you want to stay here," sneered Filch, "With your nasty little friends messing up the castle."

"'Ere now, Filch, 'snot yer place to be lecturin' them. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

The caretaker grimaced, and turned away. "I'll be back at dawn," his voice came back as the three of them watched his lamp bob in the direction of the castle, "For what's left of them." He added nastily.

Harry stared at the dot of light even as it vanished. He could hear Hagrid disabusing Pansy of the notion that she would be copying lines behind him, and by the time he turned around, the girl was staring sullenly at the ground.

"Right then. Now, listen carefully," Hagrid looked over each of them in turn, "'cause it's dangerous what we're going to do tonight (Hagrid really did have a different notion of dangerous, Harry thought to himself), an' I don't want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

Harry wanted to Reinforce himself just to be safe, but Archer stopped him from doing so. While Harry could produce an extremely high level of prana, it was unwise and wasteful to start using it when he hadn't even entered the forest yet.

Hagrid led them to the edge of the forest. Lifting his lamp up high, the man pointed out a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. Harry sniffed as a breeze passed through their group; he could smell a powerful source of prana, but he detected no form of life within the same range.

The unconscious question in Harry's mind was soon answered by Hagrid. "Look there," He pointed up ahead, "See that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood."

Harry walked ahead and crouched down to get a better look. Up close, he could smell the powerful energy in it, but it seemed... _tainted_, somehow. He didn't need to hear Archer's warning to know that it was a bad idea to touch it.

"There's a unicorn in there that's bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week." Hagrid continued as the rest of them crowded around the spilled blood. "I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what happens if the thing that hurt the unicorn finds us?" Harry wanted to know. He heard a slight rustling as both Pansy and Neville nodded furiously.

"There's nothin' that lives in this forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," Hagrid replied. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

_...and what if the thing that hurt the unicorn wasn't native to this forest? _Harry tried to recall what he could of unicorns. _They're fast and powerful, and can be called Light creatures, their tail hair is used in wands, and their horns in Potions. But what about their blood? Something that magical has to have some use. I know I read about it, but dealing with Norbert made me forget! _

Pansy chose to stay with Hagrid after comparing the sizes of the gamekeeper and his dog, which left Harry and Neville with Fang. After receiving instructions as to what sort of signals they should use - green sparks for the unicorn, red sparks for danger - the two groups set off, with Neville and Pansy following closely at their respective leaders' heels.

The first thing Harry did was to find a branch and Transfigure the shaved tree limb into a bow, and a vine cutting into the string, and the shavings into arrows he handed to Neville to carry.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns, Harry?" Neville asked quietly.

Harry did his best to recall what he knew of werewolves, and shook his head. "Werewolves only become active on a full moon. The timing doesn't match up with the attacks."

He Reinforced his eyes to track the spots of silver, with his nose to confirm that he was on the right trail. Archer was also keeping an eye out, but the hero made sure to train Harry in keeping his senses on alert for any danger-

"Who's there!" Harry drew his bow and aimed at somewhere off the path, triggering another circuit to Reinforce the bow and arrow in his hands.

Neville dropped the arrows and immediately darted behind Harry with Fang, trying to peer through the darkness.

Harry's nose itched, but he didn't let the arrow waver. His ears picked up a slithering sound that faded as whatever made it drew further away, but he didn't lower his weapon until he heard no more.

"What was that?" Neville asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know... but it wasn't friendly." _What was it?_

_It wasn't hooves you heard, so it couldn't have been the centaur. _Archer said thoughtfully. _Slithering could have been caused by cloth or scales. It was probably not natural unless there are humans living in here. _

Harry felt a chill go down his spine. "Let's move." He whispered to Neville, who picked up the arrows he dropped earlier.

They moved deeper into the forest, and Harry began cursing the school's disciplinary practices for sending him and two other students into this place. The further they went after the trail of blood, the thicker the trees grew, and Harry grew increasingly nervous, knowing that even with his improved senses, there were just too many ways for someone to sneak up on them.

_The blood suddenly got thicker... _Archer observed with some alarm. _The unicorn must have been injured further._

Hearing that, Harry picked up the pace, leaving Neville to scramble after him. They went deeper and deeper into the forest, with the sound around them falling away until all even Harry could hear were the sounds they made.

Then he saw it, a bright white shaped in the form of a horse in the clearing ahead, with a horn growing from its head. "Neville, green sparks!"

He heard the boy fumbling for his wand behind him, and the sound of the arrows falling to the ground again. Not taking his eyes off the unicorn, Harry crouched down and reached behind him for the arrows. There was a sound of soft crackling as Neville sent up the signal for 'Unicorn found'.

Harry expected the unicorn to react as he drew closer, but he was dismayed to see that it was on its knees, breathing weakly as it bled from a deep wound in its side. A crack sounded beneath his foot as he stepped on a twig, and it looked straight at him. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the emotion of fear in those eyes, but it soon faded as the unicorn seemed to sense that he meant no harm.

_It's dying already... _Archer said sadly.

_No! It can't be dying! It's still alive! _Harry protested.

_It's lost too much blood. And it knows it already. _

The unicorn neighed softly, slowly toppling over to land on its side, its mane spreading out over the leaves. As Harry watched, its breathing began to slow, its chest taking longer and longer to rise and fall even as its eyes kept looking at Harry's. Then, before it died, it jerked its head, indicating the side of the clearing to Harry's left in a clear warning.

_HARRY!_ Archer snapped out.

It happened almost immediately; a bush in that direction rustled, and Harry's ears picked up that slithering sound before some hooded figure came crawling out on all fours, heading across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry felt Archer directing his body, and quickly went along with the motion, raising his bow and drawing it back in one smooth motion as he filled both with prana to enhance its ability.

The arrow shot straight at the creature that was headed towards the unicorn, but before it could hit, the creature raised a hand and destroyed the arrow with a burst of fire.

"Neville! Red sparks, red sparks!" yelped Harry, but his arms moved efficiently as he set another arrow and loosed again. That arrow was also blasted away, and the creature was facing them now. "And call for help!"

"Y-yes! HELP! HEEEEEELP! SOMEBODY HELP UUUUUUS!" Neville was screaming rather loudly, and Harry hoped that Hagrid would arrive soon.

Harry and Archer moved fluidly, swiftly firing arrow after arrow, only to have the hooded figure shoot every single one of them down. They reached for the next one, only to find that they had run out of transfigured arrows. _Archer! _Harry shouted in his mind, panicked as he heard blood pounding in his ears.

Archer nodded in agreement. _There's no other choice. _

"Synchro-"

"Get down!"

Harry instinctively ducked, finally realizing that what he thought was the sound of his own heart beating had been the sound of hooves charging up from behind, as what looked like a horse leapt over him and charged at the hooded figure. Letting the bow drop from his hands, Harry and Archer readied themselves to Trace a weapon to join the battle, only to see the hooded figure dart back into the bushes in retreat.

_What was THAT? _Harry demanded, his eyes fixed on where the creature had vanished.

_It might have moved on all fours, but it was almost certainly human in shape. _Archer replied grimly.

_What human moves like that? _Harry wanted to know, but before Archer could answer, Harry's attention was diverted by the sound of hooves approaching his position.

He looked up to see what could only be a centaur, a combination of a man's upper body mounted where a normal house would have its head. It looked young, with white-blond hair like Draco's, except longer, and a palomino body.

"Are you alright?" said the centaur, extending a hand towards Harry, who was still crouched down.

Harry glanced behind him; Neville was leaning against a tree, looking immensely relieved. "I'm fine, thank you." He took the offered hand and let it draw him up into a standing position.

The centaur held onto Harry's hand for a moment, looking at the black fringe where his scar was hidden under. "You're the Potter boy." He (Harry realized the voice sounded like a male's) said in wonder.

Harry's ears pricked up at the sound of crashing intermixed with more hooves, and turned just to see two more centaurs bursting through the trees with Hagrid close behind them. All three of them were breathing hard and sweating heavily.

"'Arry!" The man nearly knocked the two centaurs off their hooves as he barreled past them to check on the white-haired boy. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

"He's fine, Hagrid." Harry's rescuer answered for him. "But the forest is not safe for him. He should get out quickly."

"Firenze!" One of the other centaurs, a black-haired black-bodied one, said sharply in warning, clearly referring to the younger centaur by his name. "Remember that we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens!"

Harry heard Hagrid muttering about 'ruddy stargazers' as he looked between each speaker in turn. Then he looked at the dead unicorn. Despite its deceased state, it still looked beautiful, but its death added sadness to the picture it painted, and in spite of himself, Harry walked over to the corpse and knelt down at its head. Up close, he could see that its eyes no longer had any emotion in them. Dead was dead; the unicorn had joined his parents, and would not ever return. Feeling a bit depressed, Harry reached out and touched the long horn.

It fell off.

"What did you do?" He heard that harsh-speaking centaur growl at him from behind, and Harry scrambled away in panic.

"I-I just touched it, and the horn fell off!" Harry defended himself, not liking the hostile expression.

At the sound of that, all three centaurs looked at each other. "Bane," said the final centaur whose name Harry still had not heard, "It was foretold in the stars."

It was Firenze who stepped forward to pick up the horn. "Harry Potter. This horn is the final gift that this unicorn wished to give, and it is for you." He placed it carefully into Harry's hands.

Harry looked down at the fifteen-inch pearly white cone in his hands, then up at the centaur in shock. "But..."

"It is yours." Firenze told him quietly, but determinedly. "Now, you must leave. It is dangerous for you to stay here any longer. Can you ride?"

"WHAT?" Bane suddenly shouted. "Firenze, have you no shame? Are you a common mule? Ronan, tell him!"

The third centaur shook his head dolefully. "Firenze is simply acting the way he thinks best."

"I'll be fine, Firenze." Harry said quietly, clutching the horn to his chest. "Come on, Hagrid, Neville."

Hagrid started when Harry said his name. "Ri-righ' yeh are, Harry."

The three of them headed back to retrieve Pansy, whom Hagrid had left up in a tree before he had come to Harry and Neville's rescue. She was quite frightened after having been left alone for that short period of time, but regained her sharp tongue almost immediately after being brought down from her perch. Then she looked over Harry's shoulder, and fainted. Harry tensed up even as Hagrid brought his crossbow to bear in Harry's direction.

"Harry Potter." Firenze's soft voice spoke from behind Harry, and he turned around to face the centaur.

"Don' scare us like that, Firenze," growled Hagrid, lowering his weapon.

"I apologize, Hagrid. But there are things that I need to speak to this child." Firenze waited, until Hagrid grunted and started moving again, picking Pansy up off the ground. As they moved through the forest, Firenze spoke softly to Harry, "Do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

Harry shook his head.

"It is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," murmured Firenze, "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Harry's head turned sharply to stare at Firenze, who hadn't even looked at Harry even once during his speech. _It's that powerful? No wonder it smelled tainted, if it carried a curse. _"That guy must have been really desperate then. Does he have cancer or something?" He commented, almost as a joke.

Firenze raised one eyebrow in question, but still didn't turn his head. "Unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else, something that will bring you back to full strength and power, something that will mean you can never die." He continued, then finally turned to meet Harry's green eyes. "Mr Potter, do you know what is hidden in school at this very moment?"

Harry, Hagrid and Neville all looked sharply at Firenze, who seemed unconcerned by their stares.

"Even the centaurs know it?" Hagrid said weakly.

"There is little that is hidden from the stars."

"But who would want-" Neville closed his mouth when Harry shot a look that said 'Don't!' at him.

Harry could tell that Neville was going to ask "Who would want a fake?", but Firenze answered it differently.

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

Hagrid and Neville looked confused, but for Harry, it felt like his heart had been encased in icy steel that stopped it from beating. He could remember the time he discussed his history with Archer, how he had told the spirit: _But there's no body at all._

It was just too unrealistic, but given Harry's luck, it was extremely likely - Voldemort himself was after the stone. It stood to reason, especially when he remembered that Gringotts had been broken into with the culprit escaping.

Things began to fall into place one after another, and when Harry made it back to the common room, he sat up in his bed with his wand providing light for what he intended to do. Activating the Map, Harry watched as Quirrell's deformed name moved through the castle, finally stopping inside the man's office. On one strip of paper, he wrote the name 'Quirinus Quirrell', and on another, he wrote ' Riddle', the name Ollivander had given him. Propping up his wand up on his pillow, Harry placed the two strips together in front of the light shining from it, slowly shifting it from side to side, until the overlapping names resembled the tag on the Map. There was no first name to complete the similarity, but it was undeniable. Two people were in the space of a single dot, but that was not possible, unless...

Breathing heavily, Harry dropped the strips and watched the dot on the map move onto the bed in the room. _Archer... is possession possible? _He asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer. _Not like how you are inside me, but..._

_It is. _The spirit confirmed.

Harry continued to stare at the dot. If this Map was telling the truth, if it could really detect any presence within the walls of Hogwarts, then everyone here was in danger.

Voldemort himself was right in the castle with them.

* * *

(1) This information was on the wiki, and it creates some illogical situations, like how Harry could see Hagrid's hut in fifth year canon.

(2) I actually thought of this idea before, but imagine my surprise when I saw Lochar using it already in Harry Potter and the Summoner's Stone, one of the story I read even as I write my own fanfic.

Since I'm busy writing my other story at night, I managed to work on this chapter through the weekday instead of during the weekend like I've been doing all this while. Part of it was slow, but I must say that it flowed out of me quite well.

I don't think Harry's magic is that overpowered. He reads ahead, he practices his magic enough to compete with Hermione in getting the hang of whatever spell they're learning first, and he has got Structural Analysis to help his Transfiguration. Coming up with a workable hot air balloon is certainly within his ability. The dragon crate would certainly be light enough that he wouldn't need too big a balloon. Honestly speaking, it's possible that the wards over the castle were weak at the top of the Astronomy Tower, which could be the reason Charlie picked that place for the transfer, but if it wasn't, why didn't canon Harry just have Hedwig stationed up there with a note to meet them somewhere else to pick up the dragon? Is this one-track way of thinking due to their immaturity, or the wizarding way of thinking, I wonder.

As for Harry receiving a detention, I think it's typical for Snape to do that to get at him, just that whether the reason they were sent into the forest was due to Quirrell Imperiusing Filch or McGonagall's unprofessionalism eludes me. I recall a fanfic where Harry called McGonagall out on it after Moody 'ferret-ed' Malfoy in Book 4, causing quite an uproar in the discipline system. The part about Malfoy worrying about werewolves in canon reminded me of this very funny and greatly recommended fanfic by Sarah1281, Oh God Not Again, where Harry brought up some of canon's misconceptions about werewolves, like Draco saying that one could run into a werewolf at any time in the Forbidden Forest, or Tom RIddle talking about Hagrid trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed.

Well, review this chapter and give feedback!


	11. Ninth Spell

Harry would never remember how he managed to score so well on his first year exams, given the lack of studying he did in the days leading up to them. Perhaps it was the result of his hard work over the entire year, but whatever the case, it did not erase the fact that he spent those last few days tracking Quirrell even more fiercely than before. After he had dismissed the other members of the Student Council for the last time before their exams, Harry began working on a way to capture, if not kill, Voldemort and his host.

He tried using his Cloak to sneak into the Restricted Section in order to search for something that could contain a spirit, but had to abandon the idea after Madam Pince increased security around it to prevent troublemakers from taking advantage of the exam rush to try the same.

Neville, Hermione, and the twins seemed to be concerned about the fact that Harry was tiring himself out with his watching Quirrell, and more than once they suggested going to McGonagall or Dumbledore, but Harry just shrugged them off. People in the wizarding world still flinched when they heard Voldemort's name spoken ten years after his supposed death; what would they do if they found out that he was right in the same place they were? And besides, how could Dumbledore have failed to notice that his enemy was right within the walls of Hogwarts when the whole defense setup (Archer pointed out that Harry was generalizing things, but he ignored the spirit) was built as a trap for the person? Harry's temper always rose whenever he thought about how Dumbledore was putting the students of the school at risk with his actions.

Quirrell himself seemed to be even more jittery as time passed, possibly a result of not getting his unicorn blood fix due to Harry's interference. More than once, Harry caught an attempt at mind magic made on him that he threw off with Archer's assistance, and he always spotted Quirrell giving him looks of hatred whenever the man thought Harry wasn't looking. Now he knew, the attempt on his life during his first Quidditch match had not been in revenge for the troll, it was in revenge for Voldemort's defeat in Godric's Hollow. One night, Harry spotted Quirrellmort's dot heading into the Forbidden Forest again, but he was unable to do a thing to stop it with Percy and the other prefects putting Gryffindor House in lockdown so they could study. It was aggravating knowing that another unicorn was about to die while he was forced to stare at books and notes.

_You can't save everyone, Harry. No matter how much you want to. _Archer told him solemnly, but he could tell that the heroic spirit was also regretting being unable to do anything.

_You told me that being a hero means trying anyway! _Harry retorted.

_All you will accomplish is getting yourself injured or killed! _Archer snapped back, making him flinch. _Discretion is the better part of valor, haven't you heard that before?_

_Then what should I do, Archer? Tell me! _

"Harry?" Harry blinked and looked up. Hermione was looking at him worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Forcing a smile, he nodded. "I'm fine. I'm feeling a bit tired, so I'll head up to sleep first." He collected his books and went up the stairs.

Minutes later, Harry was once against standing in Archer's world, and he was shouting at the older man.

"Why aren't we doing anything? I know some of your swords are powerful enough! You can beat Quirrell, beat Voldemort!"

"I might. But not you." Archer said firmly. "No matter how much you've trained, your body is still that of a child's. Your chances of winning aren't good."

"What if we shoot him from afar?" said Harry frantically. "You could do that, right? Right?"

Archer materialized the bow in his hand. "I could, but you can't."

"WHY NOT?" yelled Harry.

"This bow is built to fire Noble Phantasms, it's special. It's not something you can easily wield." He planted the bow in the ground, placing a hand on the other end. "And it's taller than you. How do you expect to shoot Quirrell when you can't even hold it properly?"

Harry was speechless.

"And you haven't thought about what else is involved. Can you imagine what would happen if your friends saw you shooting Quirrell?"

"Then I'll just-"

"Shoot him from afar so no one sees you?" Archer said sharply, letting the bow disappear. "There is no place in the castle when you can fire off a proper arrow without being seen. Outside of the castle? You need something strong enough to penetrate the bounded fields. And what if the arrow you use isn't enough? Will you use a stronger Noble Phantasm? What if someone else gets caught by the blast?"

Harry clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

"I know you want to do something, but think before you act." Archer looked out over the vast expanse of blades. "I made that mistake many times, and always ended up regretting it afterwards."

"...inside my trunk is the horn of a unicorn that was killed by Quirrell and Voldemort. How do you think I feel knowing that another one of those beautiful creatures is going to get killed tonight because I can't do anything?" Harry said, furious.

"..." Archer just looked at him, almost pityingly.

"Well? Don't just stand there, say something!"

Archer held out his hands and materialized Kanshou and Bakuya, but unlike his previous versions of those weapons, both of them seemed to be leaking some silvery substances, and were cracked in places. "If you really think I don't know how you feel, then hold these."

"What are they?" Harry knew that for some reason, he could see the history of the blades he touched in Archer's world, which was why he avoided touching any of them save the normal ones Archer created for him during their spars.

"I attempted to weave my memories into these. I'll warn you now, what you might see isn't anything pretty."

Harry gave Archer one last glare, before reaching out and grabbing the handles of those two blades.

_Regret._

_Forced to kill those he wished to save. Forced to end their lives to save humanity from itself._

_Forced to... betray his own ideals. And being unable to do a thing to stop it._

Harry tore his hands away from the weapons. Breathing heavily, he collapsed back onto his butt, staring at Archer with wide eyes of shock. Then he cut his connection to the world, vanishing from Archer's eyes, and spent the rest of the night curled up in his bed trying to forget what he saw.

When he rose the next morning, Harry stumbled down to the Great Hall for breakfast, before escaping out onto the grounds to avoid talking to anyone. He walked around the castle, passing by the greenhouses, the lake, avoiding the Whomping Willow's range, until he finally came to a stop outside Hagrid's cottage. Harry stared at the dark windows for a while, before turning to leave.

"Hey, Harry. What yer doin' here?"

Harry turned around to see Hagrid emerging from the forest.

"I just felt like taking a walk." Harry said dully.

"Wanna cuppa tea? Jus' came back from patrollin' the forest, myself."

"Okay."

Harry sat in the big chair watching Hagrid putter about putting the kettle on and preparing cups. Once the hot tea was before him, he took a few deep breaths of the herbal scent.

Hagrid set down the teapot and gave him a look over his own mug. "You look like yer aren' sleepin' well, Harry. Bad dreams?"

"You could say that." The boy mumbled dully.

"The unicorn, eh?" Hagrid chuckled, but his voice was sad. "Its death must've affected you."

Harry would have corrected Hagrid, but Archer's existence was a secret that he never told anyone, and didn't intend to. Instead he remained silent.

"Well, I've got good news for yer, Harry. The centaurs told me that the unicorn herd moved deeper into the forest, and they'll be protectin' them, too."

It took a while before what Hagrid said registered in Harry's brain. "What?"

"Whatever's been huntin' those unicorns, it won' get them now." Hagrid said confidently. "No more unicorns're gonna die, Harry."

The boy wasn't sure how to react at first, but eventually he simply sagged in relief. So no unicorns died last night, and even if he wasn't able to stop Quirrell from going into the forest, it would be okay. It would be okay, Harry told himself again.

* * *

On the morning of the first day of exams, Draco, whose grades had yet to overtake Hermione's outside of Potions, finally made his move.

"I think I'm ready, Harry. What do you-" Hermione was talking to Harry, but he wasn't really paying attention.

_LOOK OUT!_ Archer's voice roared in his mind.

Despite having not heard his voice for a while, Harry instinctively grabbed the girl and pushed her to the floor, just as a dark purple curse sailed through where she was standing a moment ago. Rolling off the shrieking girl, Harry pulled off his book bag and threw it into the way of another curse, causing an explosion of parchment and ink that made the crowd scatter and scream. His eyes spotted an older Slytherin student pointing a wand at them, and Harry growled angrily.

"JUST WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Professor McGonagall yelled, causing everyone to go still.

The student made to put his wand away, but Harry was faster. He drew his wand and fired off a powerful Stinging Hex, hitting the teenager in the hand, eliciting a yelp and causing him to drop the wand, which clattered on the floor.

"Mr Potter! What are you doing!" McGonagall rounded on him, but Harry didn't flinch, keeping his wand trained on his opponent. "Put your wand away!"

"No." Harry spoke coldly.

"Ten points from Gryffindor! And it will be a detention if you don't PUT. YOUR. WAND. AWAY."

"He tried to curse Hermione, Professor." Hermione gasped at what he said, and the old witch frowned at hearing how one of her best students had been targeted.

Harry shot off another hex, hitting the ground between the Slytherin's hand and his wand just as the teenager was trying to reach for it.

"MR POTTER!" McGonagall looked extremely furious.

Seeing Dean near the Slytherin, Harry caught the dark-skinned boy's eye. "Get his wand, Dean. It's evidence."

"Ri-right." Dean did as he was told, and Harry finally lowered his wand, but still watched the older boy in case he tried anything.

"Mr Thomas!" McGonagall glared at her other student, who shrunk back, but held onto the incriminating wand.

"Professor, I believe it's possible to check the last spell cast?" Harry said as he helped Hermione to her feet. Hearing that she narrowly avoided getting hit by a curse had unnerved the bookish Gryffindor, and she held onto him tightly.

McGonagall's lips pinched together, but she stalked over to Dean and snatched the wand out of his hands. Placing the tip of her wand to it, she spoke the incantation, "_Priori Incantato_."

Harry didn't recognize the shape of the swirly pattern that came out from the Slytherin student's wand, but McGonagall evidently did, because she looked like she wanted to expel the student very badly.

"Mr Dreyton. See me in my office. _Immediately_." Anyone who heard her speak right then knew that McGonagall was beyond furious, and the boy paled visibly. "The rest of you, into the Hall. Now!"

Harry spared a glance for the remains of his book bag before he shook his head and entered the examination room with the rest of his year mates. Hermione looked like she wanted to say something to him, but first they had an exam to deal with. Privately, he thought it was a lucky coincidence that he hadn't carried any of his important notes right then. Picking up the Anti-Cheating Quill they were provided with for the exams, he scanned it to inspect the charm on it.

_Harry. _

_Yes, Archer? I'm about to take an exam here. _Harry still had yet to discuss Archer's past with the spirit, and their relationship had gotten slightly cool after not talking to each other for so long.

_Look at Draco. _

Harry glanced over at the blonde, then took a closer look. _That... _

Draco had been frowning at him, but his eyes flickered between Harry and Hermione. Clearly, Harry's rescue of Hermione wasn't to his liking. It wasn't hard for Harry to make the connection.

_THAT-! _Harry's fist clenched tightly.

"Mr Potter, please do not break the quill." He looked over the edge of his desk to see Professor Flitwick frowning at him disapprovingly.

Harry's grip relaxed, and he looked down. The Anti-Cheating Quill had snapped in his hand when he had squeezed it too tightly. Flitwick repaired it and moved on.

_You should calm down, _said Archer calmly, _if you think about it... you were at fault._

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"Mr Potter, behave yourself!"

Harry looked around, but the other students didn't meet his eyes. "Oh, sorry Professor."

_The terms of your wager with Draco did not restrict him from attempting to prevent Hermione from taking the exams, and if she didn't, she would naturally score below Draco, and he would win the wager._

_That's... _

"Turn your question papers over. You may begin."

_Focus on your exam for now, Harry. _Archer said, before his presence faded out.

_Archer? Archer!_ Harry gritted his teeth, before giving up and doing as the spirit told him. He wanted to talk to Archer, to discuss what he had seen of the hero's memories, but apparently it wasn't going to happen just yet.

After the exam, the Gryffindors crowded protectively around Hermione and escorted her back to their common room. She didn't waste any time in scolding him for his outburst in the exam hall.

"I know you don't like attention, Harry, but you didn't have to snap at everyone." She told him in a patient tone of voice.

_Huh? Oh... she misunderstood the 'what' I said as a 'what are you looking at'. _Before Harry could say anything, Fay interrupted.

"That's no way to talk to the person who saved you from getting cursed, Hermione!"

The girl looked down. "Sorry. I've been trying to break that habit, but..."

"We know, you fall back into it sometimes. But why would that slimy Slytherin try to curse her?" Lavender spoke up this time.

Harry wasn't sure how to put it across to the rest of the Gryffindors; Hermione was sure to react unfavorably.

_Tell them. It's best to get it out of the way now._

_Are we finally talking again, Archer? _Harry's expression darkened slightly.

_Don't be a stubborn ass. Just tell them, it won't be as bad as you think._

Harry grumbled in his mind, but went along nonetheless. "Guys, I have something to tell you..."

Like Harry expected, Hermione didn't take the news too well; she gave him a stern talking-to in a manner reminiscent of McGonagall, going on for nearly half an hour before she finally relented and let him off. But like Archer expected, the overall reaction wasn't that bad, as the other Gryffindors vowed to protect one of their own.

However, while they didn't have to do much since the story had leaked out to the teachers (Harry only said that he had a bet with Draco on Hermione's results, not mentioning the costs involved), prompting a separation of the two Houses for the period of the exams, the relationship between Slytherin and Gryffindor fractured even further despite Harry's attempts to prevent it. Harry knew that Archer wasn't infallible, but he couldn't help but blame the spirit for not predicting this outcome. Yes, he was at fault for not applying proper restrictions to the wager, but to see his Student Council idea face such a setback...

There were just too many things for him to take care of: Exams, the Student Council's purpose, Quirrellmort, Harry couldn't deal with it all at once. So he met up with Draco and bluntly told him to help keep the peace.

"Or what?"

_Or I'll punch you across the face for trying to curse a friend of mine. _"Or even if I put you as the leader, no one will ever follow you apart from the Slytherins." Harry said, not letting his thoughts show on his expression.

"You were the one who didn't name the proper terms," accused Draco.

Harry winced. "I know. But you're just damaging the reputation of Slytherin House with this action. That's not what we want."

Their talk went on for quite a while, but Harry finally won when he pointed out how the House of hot-headed idiots would jump at the chance to attack in retaliation for any attack Slytherin made, possibly causing a full-out war that nobody wanted; the costs would offset the gain he was shooting for. Draco didn't like it, but he eventually agreed to stop Slytherin from making any offensive motions if Harry would do the same for Gryffindor. It took a lot of fast-talking from Harry before he managed to calm down the lions, but an uneasy peace was eventually forged, giving him the breathing room he needed.

The exams themselves weren't too hard; Harry didn't think he did as well as he could on the theory portion of his papers, but at least he filled out every single question, even if not all of them were correct. But it was the practical portion he shone in; Professor Flitwick's test of making a pineapple tapdance across the desk was simple, while Professor McGonagall gave him an approving smile to match Archer's pride in him, with the snuffbox he transfigured from a mouse having an elegant design of a crossed Kanshou & Bakuya. For Sprout, they had to demonstrate how to prune a few separate plants and collect the respective parts that could be used in Potions without harming them.

When Snape chose the Forgetfulness potion as the potion to brew, Harry smirked; striking at Slytherin House with Quidditch was one thing, while attacking the man himself was another. Applying his accumulated knowledge and magecraft allowed him to finish five minutes before everyone else, and he made sure to swagger up to the Potions teacher in a manner that caught everyone's attention. The Slytherin Head of House heard about how Harry had caught one of his snakes in trying to curse Hermione, and glared unpleasantly at Harry. Just before he reached Snape, Harry lifted the vial in his right hand to his mouth, before lowering it and looking around in a befuddled manner, blinking oddly. Then he turned and started heading for the door, ignoring Hermione's frantic hiss along the way.

"Potter!" Snape ground out.

Harry stopped and looked at the man curiously. "Yes... er... who are you again?"

_You're overdoing it, Harry. _Archer sighed.

"Don't play the fool with me, Potter! I know you didn't drink that Forgetfulness potion. Hand it in, I'll be deducting marks for this charade."

"Oh, okay." Harry approached Snape and held out the vial in his right hand. "Here you go."

The two of them looked down at the empty vial, watched by the rest of the class.

"It's empty." Harry said, his voice filled with wonder at the mysterious existence of the empty vial in his hand, holding it up to his eye so everyone else could see.

Snape didn't have the same reaction. Rather, his was the opposite. "I can see that, you stupid boy. What have you done with it?"

"Maybe I drank it. I can't remember if I did." Harry licked his lips as though trying to taste a residue on them. "Hey, if I did, and I can't remember it, that means it worked, right?" (1)

Snape turned a nice shade of puce and swelled with anger even as some of the braver students chuckled in amusement, but before the man could say anything, Harry gasped and held out his left hand, which had the vial filled with Forgetfulness potion in it. He had pulled a simple switch to transfer it from his right hand to his left.

"Oh, of course! I _remember_ now~" Harry exaggerated the realization in his voice, "I accidentally got a bit on my lips and forgot I was carrying it in my _left_ hand. Here you go, Professor Snape. It's got my name written on it and everything, properly labeled, just the way you wanted, oh yes!" He thrust the vial into the man's hand.

Archer sighed. _You're overdoing it again._

As Harry made for the door, he heard a clinking noise behind him, and saw the vial on the floor. It was clear that Snape had tried to break it, but he hadn't counted for Harry's Reinforcement. "Be careful, Professor Snape. Careless hands like that aren't good for a Potions Master..."

Once he was outside the room, Harry made his way over to the place where McGonagall was invigilating one of the upper year's student, patting the additional vial inside his robe pocket. While he knew from talking to the older students that only the OWLs and NEWTs mattered, he didn't want his foster parents to question why he scored so poorly on Potions. Despite McGonagall's actions for the past few weeks, she at least knew of Snape's grudge against Harry, and would most likely help. If not, well... at least he got some personal satisfaction anyway.

The practical for Defense Against the Dark Arts was a stroke of luck for Harry since Quirrell held a simple question-and-answer session for the whole class. He didn't want to imagine what might have happened if it had been one on one like with Flitwick or McGonagall, it might have resulted in a deathmatch. As things were, Harry thought he might have suffocated from the smell of garlic when Quirrell stood close by him for nearly half of the whole period. Archer theorized that Quirrell was reliant on unicorn blood because most possessions tended to be deteriorative to the host's body, and the garlic smell was to cover up the usual stench of that effect. Harry joked that Quirrell, who was said to have a way with trolls, was using garlic to hide the fact that he hung around trolls for so long that the smell rubbed off on him-

Actually, Harry later decided, that _was_ a reasonable explanation. He passed it on to the Weasley twins and Lavender Brown, who would disseminate it to the rest of the school in short order.

The last exam was History of Magic, and Harry felt that fate was throwing him a bone by giving him a test on Gaspard Shingleton, the inventor of the self-stirring cauldron, and the person he researched in order to make the enchanted stirrers he created for Neville to practice with. One hour of answering questions about that man and the charms involved, and Harry was done with exams. While he knew that there was still Quirrellmort (the name kind of grew on him the more he used it) and Council work to deal with, the evaporating tension was infectious, and Harry let himself join in with the cheering of the others when Binns told them to stop writing and roll up their parchments.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be." Hermione was saying as they followed the rest of the crowd out onto the sun-soaked grounds, "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

"That's our Hermione." Parvati said with some fondness. "You're sure to win your bet with Malfoy now, Harry."

"Yeah." Harry couldn't help but glance back at the castle, wondering what Quirrellmort was up to.

"By the way," Lavender suddenly stuck her face in from of his, causing Harry to jerk back in shock. "What is the Student Council planning next?"

"Er, well, that... Quidditch!" Harry blurted out without thinking, the first thing coming to his mind being the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor plot.

"Huh? Quidditch? But we already have the usual Quidditch matches coming up..." The other people who were listening, Gryffindor and otherwise, all mumbled agreement.

Harry looked around at the disappointed faces. "Ah, no, I mean... we always play among the students, right? How about we play against the teachers instead!" He came up with the idea on the spot.

He didn't expect it to suddenly transform the entire group of people into a bundle of excitement as word spread throughout the place, and he had to call a sudden meeting of the Council to prepare for the thing. Draco and Hannah were just as excited, and he quickly delegated duties to them like who was in charge of the tryouts and stuff. Professor McGonagall was shocked when she saw all the students indoors instead out outside like they normally were after exams, but once somebody explained things to her, agreed that the idea of a student-teacher Quidditch match was a favorable one, and gave Harry a nod of approval.

Part of Harry knew that he still had Quirrellmort to deal with, but it was hard to focus on that when everyone kept coming to him demanding information about the latest Student Council undertaking.

"Let's make it only open to first through fourth year," decided Harry.

"Why? Everyone wants to have a chance against the teachers." Draco demanded. He had been acting subdued after realizing his mistake in trying to win the wager, but Quidditch still excited him like it would any wizard child.

"You have to think of those taking OWLs and NEWTs, Draco. Besides, we're supposed to be in charge of the first years only, remember?"

"But they want to," repeated Draco, "We can use that to get more support for this Council, instead of just being restricted to first years. That's how it works, right?"

"Yes it is. But do you really want those students coming after you later blaming you for their poor grades?" Harry had considered this happening after the wager fiasco.

"As if that would happen. It's their fault." The Slytherin scoffed.

Harry just gave him a 'how stupid are you?' look and held it until Draco flushed and looked away. One of the things Harry had encountered in his work as the Student Council president was how stupid people could act given half-information, and with Draco accompanying along on some of those times when he had to explain things, both of them were very familiar with what Harry was saying.

"Take Percy Weasley for example," Harry reminded the rest, ignoring Draco's muttering about blood traitors. "He's one of those who would act that way, don't you think?"

"The most stiff-necked fellow I've ever seen." Su added her opinion of the person they all knew, and the others murmured their agreement.

"Now let's move on to the next part, I want to finish this before lunch." Harry ordered.

While Harry might have been an excellent Seeker, he wasn't really that much of a Quidditch fan, and thus wasn't really interested in the overall event. Because of that, after a bit of decision making as to what rules and tasks were involved, he pushed the duties onto his colleagues under the excuse that they needed to learn the ropes themselves, with a meaningful look at Draco.

After they left, Harry busied himself tidying up the place before leaving the room. _That's done. Now, about Quirrell... _

"Harry!"

The boy in question cursed his luck and turned around to see who was calling him this time. Hermione and Neville came puffing up to him - the pair really were unused to intense physical activity - looking like something really bad had happened.

"What's the matter, guys?"

"Ha...Hagrid... he said..." Neville was doubled over, wheezing.

"Breathe deeply, Neville. Get some oxygen in first before you speak. Hermione?"

Neville nodded, but his expression said he had no idea what oxygen was. Meanwhile, Hermione spoke.

"Professor Dumbledore's left the castle." Hermione rushed out breathlessly.

"Uh... huh? So?"

"Hagrid said..." Neville finally recovered enough to speak properly. "The centaurs had a message... what is fake... is real!" The boy grabbed Harry's robes, alarm on his face. "The Stone, it's not fake, it's the real one!"

"What?" Harry whispered. _That's impossible, it can't be the real one._

"And with Professor Dumbledore gone," Hermione broke in, "Quirrell's going to make a move on the Stone! We tried to tell Professor McGonagall, but she wouldn't listen to us! She said that nobody would be able to steal the Stone!"

Harry felt extremely cold. If what the centaurs said was true, then Voldemort had a very high chance of getting the Stone. Comparing Dumbledore and Voldemort, both were powerful wizards in their own right, so the former's trap for the latter may or may not have worked. And even if it worked, who was to say that Voldemort couldn't have broken out of it, given time? He tried to think of a way to stop Voldemort, but thoughts kept whirling through his head, too fast for him to lock down on anything firm.

"Harry, _what do we do?_" Hermione begged.

"I'm thinking. Give me a second!" _Archer... _

_Yes, Harry?_

_If worse comes to worst, what are my chances?_

_You will be going up against someone with far more experience than you, capable of throwing spells beyond your ability to block. There is no way you can win in a direct battle._

_Then I have to avoid confronting him directly, _Harry decided, _My objective is to prevent Voldemort from getting the Stone... _His eyes widened.

"Harry?"

"We get the Stone first."

* * *

While Professor McGonagall might have denied the fact that anyone could have gotten through the defenses that were already in place, she apparently took the warning to heart, because whenever Harry checked the Map (under the guise of toilet breaks), there would be a teacher patrolling the area. Thankfully, none of them were Quirrell; his fearful attitude worked too well if the rest of the faculty had no confidence in his ability to protect the Stone. Not that he would have made a move during the day in any case; Harry's Quidditch idea had caused most of the outdoors crowd to migrate indoors despite the warm weather, and with the number of students running around the place, any hint of a break-in, and the whole group would rush for a look. That gave Harry and his friends time to plot and plan.

"Right, defenses." Harry rapped out. "As far as I can guess, Dumbledore is keeping this strictly in-house. So that means anything we encounter is most likely something thought up by the faculty."

"How do you know?"

"Don't you find it odd that even after a troll got into the 'safest place in Britain', we don't have any officials investigating?" Harry asked rhetorically, ignoring Hermione's squeak at the reminder of what happened on Halloween. "Right? So faculty-based defenses."

"That means, at least Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Potions, maybe Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Hermione guessed.

Harry nodded; normally he liked it when she caught on quickly, but right now he was focused on the current issue instead. "I'm not sure if the electives will be used, though. Ancient Runes, Arithmancy..."

"I don't like it, Harry. What if the defenses are too powerful? You might get killed!"

"If there's something I can't get past, then I'll just hide out there until Quirrell comes through, and ambush him while he's preoccupied."

"But-!"

"It's either that, or we let him get the Stone." Harry said quietly. "Hermione, listen. If it was just a matter of stopping Quirrell, I'd lie in wait outside the door to backstab him when he comes out, or even attack him right now. The only thing is that I don't think it'll work too well, since any thief would be prepared for resistance. Not to mention that we're only first years, up against an adult who knows so many more spells than us."

The bushy-haired girl was staring at him.

"What?"

"You're hiding something, Harry. What is it?"

_How does she know?_ "It's..." Harry bit his lip, trying to think of how to break the news to them. "It's not Quirrell who's after the Stone."

"But you said!"

Harry cut her off. "He's going after it, yes, but it's someone else who's making him get it."

"Who?" asked Hermione, just as Neville gasped in realization.

"Y-you don't mean... _You-Know-Who?_" The chubby boy whispered fearfully.

Hermione glanced at him. "What are you talking about, Neville, You-Know-Who's dead."

Neville shook his head. "The night we went into the forest, after Harry ran into the thing that was killing unicorns, one of them said something... he said that there was someone who... who was waiting for the chance t-to rise again."

Hermione waited for Neville to elaborate, but when he didn't, turned to Harry. "Just what are you keeping from us, Harry?"

"I don't _know_, okay? All I have are suspicions that may or may not be true." Harry acted frustrated. "Fine, you want to know what the centaur said, then here..."

He told her about what Firenze explained about unicorn blood and the curse it bestowed on those who used it to prolong their own lives. Then he went on to talk about the warning Firenze had given about the Stone and the one who was after it, before finally pointing out the obvious fact that Voldemort had 'died' without a body, making him the most likely suspect in the whole issue. By the time Harry was finished, Hermione was just as pale as Neville was.

"We have to stop him. We have to." Hermione said, almost to herself.

"Since we're decided on that, then let's get back to planning."

It was a race against a time limit as they tried to figure out what sort of defenses _they_ would face-

"Wait, you two plan on coming with me?"

"Of course! We can't leave you to face this alone!" Next to her, Neville nodded, shaky but resolute.

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Archer interrupted first.

_You'll just waste time. Compromise with them, don't fight them._

Harry shut his mouth and glared at the two of them. Hermione just stared stonily back.

"Fine, but the first sign of trouble, I want you two to go straight to the teachers, okay?" Hermione tried to argue, but he glowered at her even more. "_Okay?_"

"Fine..."

_Coercion works too, _admitted the spirit.

They split up to deal with their separate tasks, almost reminiscent of the time the dragon group was working on getting rid of the dragon. Hermione would look into possible Charms and Transfiguration that would work as defenses; Harry suggested animation charms as a good place to start. Neville went down to the greenhouses, to look for anything that might have been moved recently as a clue to what Professor Sprout was using as her part of the Stone's defenses. It was the right thing for him to do, considering that Neville's excellence in Herbology earned him Sprout's favor and permission to enter some of the more dangerous greenhouses. They weren't sure about what Potions would entail, but decided to leave it for later.

As for Harry, he went down to Hagrid's. According to Greek mythology, Orpheus lulled the Cerberus guarding the underworld to sleep with his music, but he had no idea whether it would truly work or not, and between relying on a book in the library and simply asking the man who had been raising the beast from young, Harry and Archer both agreed that the latter was the better choice.

"Oh, hey Harry," The man himself was sitting outside his home, whittling at a piece of wood, with a bowl of peas next to him, "How was yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Hagrid. I just need to ask a few questions."

Hagrid's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's this about now, then?"

"Fluffy. Did you tell anyone how to calm him down?" Harry knew better than to ask a direct question.

"Well o' course not! This abou' the Stone again? Dumbledore has it safe, Harry, don' worry yer lil' head about it."

"Really? You didn't mention Fluffy to anyone else besides us?"

Hagrid put down his whittling project and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "There was that stranger..."

Harry frowned. "You mean the one that carried Norbert's egg."

"Yeah, that's the one..." The man's eyes grew misty. "Wonder how's Norbert doin'..."

"Hagrid," Harry interrupted impatiently, "The stranger. You mentioned Fluffy to him?"

Hagrid's face twisted into a frown as he tried to remember. "He told me he didn' want the egg to go ter any old home... so I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..."

Harry felt that chill go down his spine again. Why hadn't he seen this coincidence before? "He asked about Fluffy, didn't he." It wasn't a question; Harry would if he had been in that stranger's shoes.

"Well, yeah." Hagrid admitted. "How many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece of cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play a bit o' music and he'll go straight off ter sleep-"

Harry facepalmed even as he heard Archer's tired sigh in his mind.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" Hagrid exclaimed in horror. "Forget I said it!"

_As if I could,_ thought Harry."Hagrid, I think you better warn the teachers. If that guy knows, he'll probably make a move now that Dumbledore's gone."

"Wha- wait, what d'yeh mean, Dumbledore's gone?" Hearing that bit of news seemed to have rattled the large-sized man greatly.

"I mean he's left, he's not here right now." Harry said heavily. "McGonagall won't believe us, but she'll probably believe you."

Harry and Archer had discussed this line of thought before. He didn't want to out Quirrellmort just yet, because that would mean setting more people in the line of danger. Since Quirrellmort hadn't made a move in all the time Dumbledore was here, it probably meant that the man wasn't at the full power Voldemort was said to possess before his 'death', and thus kept a low profile to avoid confrontations he could not handle. However, Archer's advice about how cornered rats would bite had impressed on Harry the need to do the same. At the very least, he hoped that the increased security might delay Quirrellmort (The 'mort' seemed to be adding a sort of musical quality to the name that made him want to use it instead of just 'Quirrell') from moving until Harry could get there first.

"O-okay..." Hagrid finally agreed.

When the trio of students met back in the Gryffindor common room, it was to find that they had moderate degrees of success.

"One of the Devil's Snare is gone." Neville reported. "The ground looks as though it was carefully transplanted away, not gotten rid of."

"Devil's Snare?" Hermione said suspiciously. "That hardly seems like the right thing to use to defend the Stone."

Neville shrugged helplessly. "It was the only thing I found out of place between Greenhouses one to three. If something from four to six was used, I have no idea."

"What about you, Hermione?" Harry interrupted the girl before she could question any further.

She huffed, but started talking. "As far as I know, there's just too many possibilities for Charms and Transfiguration to be used in the protections."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"That's it?"

_There are limits to everyone, Harry._

"That's it." Hermione sounded depressed. "I'm so sorry, Harry. You were relying on me for this, but I'm just useless!"

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Hermione." Harry soothed. "It just means that I won't get all the way to the end."

However, Harry's enlistment of Hagrid backfired, as Professor McGonagall called them into her office and told them off for pulling the gamekeeper into their prank. Knowing that Quirrellmort could be using this time as an opportunity to break through the defenses, Harry fought down the urge to blast McGonagall back (stepping on Hermione's foot to keep her from protesting too much), and simply accepted the point deduction.

"Why wouldn't she believe us?" The girl complained as they headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Because they think they're always right." Harry said quietly.

"But no one is."

"Yet before you met me, you believed nearly everything you read. Those books are written by people, Hermione." Harry went on. "They think they're right, because they're more experienced."

"That's..." Hermione sighed. "I think I understand what you're trying to say, Harry."

"Experienced enough to think that nobody would go where they're told not to." Harry muttered sarcastically. "Especially for a school full of rebellious children."

Hermione frowned at him, but still wore that troubled expression. Her blind trust in teachers and authority was taking a severe beating today.

They passed a thin woman draped in several gauzy shawls, wearing several pieces of jewelry, bangles and beads, but the most prominent feature about her was her eyes, which were magnified to several times their size through the thick glasses she wore.

"Bad things comes in threes... trouble is coming..." She muttered as they passed her, sounding not entirely in her right mind.

"Who was that?" Hermione looked over her shoulder as the woman tottered out of sight.

"Sybill Trelawney, the Divination teacher." Harry replied. _Bad things in three? That's superstition..._

But when he looked up at the teacher's table and saw the four teachers there with the exception of Quirrell, he actually began to believe in it a little.

"Where's Quirrell?" Neville was quick to notice as well.

"Oh no." Hermione was standing stock-still as she noticed it for herself. "Oh no no no..."

Suddenly the two of them felt arms around their shoulders. "Oh no, guys, we forgot that thing up in our rooms." Harry was speaking quite audibly. "Let's go get it quick. We've got time, dinner can wait."

The three of them made an about-turn, and left the hall at a hurried pace.

"That was amazing, Harry!" Neville breathed.

"Save the compliments for later. We have work to do." _Archer, _Harry called.

_I'm here. _

Harry blinked as the memories of blades flashed through his mind, blades that Archer was readying for any upcoming conflict. _Quirrellmort's probably gone in already. What might I face?_

Archer must have sensed Harry's urgency, because he didn't try to make his host think for himself, but provided the answers directly. _He's working within a limited time frame, so there is a lower chance of him laying any traps. Have you checked the Map?_

_Not yet. Wait a moment._

Once they returned to the common room, Harry told the other two to wait for him while he went up to get the Invisibility Cloak, and used that opening to consult his Traced Map along the way. He could see Quirrellmort's name entering the chamber where Fluffy's dot was, and... it disappeared?

_No, he simply went to a different level. That part of the map. _Archer directed. _If you look over there, he's currently going through a series of chambers-_

_That are only one way. He can't leave traps because he has to go back out by the same way, and quickly. _Harry stared at the dot. _What sort of defenses are these? He's practically walking straight through without pause!_

_Don't waste anymore time. Go._

Harry rushed back down the stairs with the Cloak, before remembering Hagrid's words and grabbing the flute the man had given him as well, and went to reunite with the other two. As they did, he started a loud conversation about what they were going to eat for dinner, within hearing distance of several portraits, and the other two played along. But the moment they reached one of the few corridors without any portraits, Harry threw the Cloak over them and they began heading for the third floor corridor.

They knew that Quirrell had already gone through, but seeing the door ajar added a whole different perspective.

"I don't blame you guys if you want to go back now." Harry whispered.

"Don't be stupid," Hermione rebuked him.

Neville nodded. "We're coming."

Harry reached out and pushed the door open, giving him his second look at Fluffy. This time, the dog emitted growls, sniffing madly to try and locate the unseen intruder. Harry took a deep breath, and began to play the flute. It wasn't really much of a tune, but the beast's eyes started to droop almost immediately, its growls ceasing, then stumbling, until it finally slumped to the floor, fast asleep.

Hermione and Neville slipped the Cloak off and approached the trapdoor. They met each other's eyes, before grabbing the handle and pulling it open together. Then they froze, staring down. When Harry advanced forward, still playing the flute, he reacted the same way. Now he knew why Quirrellmort had vanished off the Map.

Beneath the trapdoor was darkness so deep, not even his eyes could see the bottom.

"What can you see?" Hermione asked them.

Harry shook his head, while Neville said, "Nothing. I-I think we have to jump down."

They exchanged looks, before Harry pointed at himself, still playing the rough instrument.

"You want to go first? But it could be dangerous!" Hermione protested.

Harry's response was to thrust the flute into her hands, Reinforce his body, and step over the edge. There was a brief sensation of a rush as gravity pulled him down, piercing through cold, damp air, until- THUMP. He landed feet first in something soft. It took him a moment to recognize what he landed in, but once he did, Harry fought out of the tendrils that were wrapping around him and made it to the corner of the room.

He had found out where the missing Devil's Snare was. Looking up at the small square of light, Harry called out to his friends. "Soft landing! Jump together!" At the same time, he readied his wand.

The sound of the flute cut off, and moments later, two dark shapes landed on the plant as well.

"Devil's Snare!" Neville gasped, recognizing the plant instantly.

They needn't have worried, because Harry launched a jet of Hermione's Bluebell flames at the plant, causing it to pull back its tendrils from the pair, allowing them to struggle free and join him by the wall.

"Why did you make us land on it?" Hermione demanded breathlessly. "You could have gotten rid of it first, right?"

"And then you both would have broken your legs from the fall." Harry told her flatly.

"Oh. In that case, thanks Harry."

Harry led them down the stone passageway he had spotted earlier, following it downwards. It was extremely dark and quiet, even with his senses turned to maximum, Harry could only hear their footsteps on the damp stone floor, their breathing, the water trickling down the walls, and...

"What's that rustling sound?" Neville said it first. His experience with magical plants seemed to have given him good ears with which to detect some of their actions.

_Metal... feathers... _Archer identified. _This could be Transfiguration._

When the trio emerged out into a brightly lit chamber, as tall as the height they fell through the trapdoor, the first thing they noticed were the brightly moving specks in the large space above their heads.

"Are those birds?" asked Hermione in a hushed voice.

Harry shook his head. "They're keys. Keys with wings on them. And one of them," He pointed at the large heavy door opposite the place they entered from, "Probably opens that."

"Will they attack us?" Neville whispered.

Harry had a hunch they wouldn't; Fluffy, then Devil's Snare, the whole thing seemed too easy. "Only one way to find out."

Before either of them could stop him, Harry dashed straight across the room, but stopped halfway when he didn't encounter any response in those keys. After one curious glance upwards, he continued on before beckoning to the other two once he reached the door, and waited for them to join him. While they walked cautiously across, Harry analyzed the door, and found it sealed with a charm specifically meant to prevent the _Alohomora_ charm from working. The other two looked worried when he informed them about the lock preventing their advancement.

"How are we supposed to get those- Look! Broomsticks!" Hermione pointed at the wall on the left side of the chamber. "We've got to catch the key to the door!"

_Or not. _Harry strode over to the broomsticks and grabbed one. But instead of mounting it, he snapped off a few of the twigs at the end and returned to the door.

"What are you doing? We got to catch the right key!"

"Hermione, let him focus." Neville sensed his intentions, and stopped the girl from distracting him.

Harry's research into the _Alohomora_ charm had identified it as a spell that embodied the concept of a 'Skeleton Key', and the charm on the lock was a direct counter to that concept. Thus, the lock could only be opened by the physical key that fitted the lock...

Or a lock pick.

Transfiguring the twigs into the metal shapes he needed, Harry inserted them into the large keyhole and triggered the mechanism, before rotating the pieces to turn the lock. It opened with an audible click, and he pulled the door open. He resolved to thank the twins for teaching him the basics once he got out of this place.

"That's brilliant, Harry!" Hermione squealed.

The next room was pitch black, but as they stepped in, light flooded the place, illuminating the giant chessboard in the center of the place. Whoever made this definitely scaled things up directly, Harry thought, looking up at the chessmen that towered over them.

"Whose do you think this is?" Neville whispered, clearly afraid to cause a reaction by speaking too loudly.

"Flitwick's, perhaps. McGonagall's a Quidditch fan, and she can transfigure wings on those keys. Flitwick knows animation charms, and plays chess, if I recall correctly." Harry guessed.

"Do we have to play our way across?" Hermione asked.

"Wait here."

Harry advanced cautiously, walking across the chessboard. The moment his foot stepped over the halfway line, each of the pawns suddenly drew two wicked-looking scimitars (Hermione let out a small scream at that), crossing them with their neighbors to bar his way.

"Damn." Harry muttered as he stepped back, causing the pawns to revert to their initial state. He was only average at chess; perhaps he should send the others back and play across by himself?

_Wait, Harry. Put your foot down across the line again. _

Harry did as Archer advised, causing the pawns to react.

_Now lift it up, but keep it across the line. _

The moment he lifted up his foot, the pawns reverted. Realizing what Archer was driving at, Harry tested it out a few more times, almost as though playing switch on, switch off. Five repetitions later, Harry walked back to rejoin his friends.

"What were you doing, Harry?"

"Let's go get the brooms. We just have to fly over the chessboard."

Another challenge cleared, thanks to thinking flexibly. Harry thought he could almost sense some animosity as they flew over the white chessmen, but they remained totally still. Even when the three of them landed on the stone floor behind the board, there was no reaction.

"This is too easy. I don't like it." Hermione commented. "What's next?"

Harry tried to recall what he saw of the Map. _Another... three chambers. _"Snape... and Quirrell's, I reckon."

They quieted down as they approached the next door. Harry looked questioningly at his friends as he put his hands on the door. They nodded, and he pushed it open. At first, he wondered why this door had to be pushed open when the previous door had to be pulled...

Then he realized it was because the creature inside was probably too stupid to try pulling, as a familiar, disgusting smell made their eyes water and pinch their noses. Hermione shrunk against Harry when she saw the troll, even larger than the one Harry had taken on, unconscious on the floor with a bloody lump on its head. Putting a finger to his lips for silence, Harry led them around the troll and through the next door, which had to be pulled open.

Unlike the previous rooms, this one looked almost innocent with the seven bottles arranged in a straight line on a long table. Harry ventured a short distance, then suddenly noticed the smell of prana, masked under the stench of the troll. He whirled around, but was too late to stop Neville from crossing the threshold. Purple flames burst up from the ground, sealing the passage off, just as black flames appeared in the doorway leading forward into the final part of the area.

"Damn!" cursed Harry.

Neville tried to apologize, but Harry waved the boy off and approached the table.

"Look!" Hermione grabbed up the roll of paper lying next to the bottles. They gathered to read it, or hear her read it out loud.

**Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our numbers hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. **(Harry looked away to groan at how dramatic wizards made things)**  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly poison tries to hide,  
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend.  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.**

Hermione released a great sigh (Harry realized that she had read it all out without taking a single breath), and smiled widely.

"Brilliant," said the girl, "This isn't magic, it's _logic_, a puzzle."

Harry nodded. "I thought it was too easy... actually, the defenses are quite well thought out, now that I consider it."

_You don't consider it a test? _Archer asked.

_Oh, I do, it's just that there are other factors to consider. _"Most wizards tend to specialize... Devil's Snare is simple, so simple that most would forget how to deal with it, especially after a long fall. The key room... you have to be good at flying to deal with that. Or maybe a Summoning Charm."

"Wait," Neville interrupted, looking confused, "I thought you said the defenses were well thought out?"

"Of course I did. Except most wizards would just go straight through thinking that what they see is what they have to deal with. Know animals, know plants, fly well, play chess, fight a troll, now logic." Harry counted the points off his fingers. "One would need to be skilled in various fields to get past them, and how many people do you think are skilled like that? Dumbledore probably accounted for the thief working alone." _And assumed that the thief was stupid._

He suddenly shook his head. "Except it's too easy."

"What do you mean?" demanded Hermione.

"Why even have the right key? Why play chess? Why even have the right potion? Why make them do something just to get past, instead of setting traps in those tasks? The defenses are good, but still fake overall. The real trap is probably through there," Harry nodded at the black flames.

"So..." Neville said uncertainly, while Hermione gasped and began reading the rhyme again.

Harry looked at the table and the potion bottles on them. He analyzed them while Hermione tried to figure out the clues, and arrived at the answer before she announced it. He knew which two weren't poison or wine, and given that one of those two were at the far end of the line, the clue regarding those on opposite ends probably meant that it was the one meant to help the drinker go back through the purple flames.

Leaving the one to enable the drinker to move forward in the smallest bottle. Only enough for one person.

"This is the final chance to turn back." Harry said quietly. "To be honest, we're out of our depth here. Quirrell got through all of those challenges, by himself. He's clearly better than he let on, and definitely too much even for the three of us."

They met his eyes, scared, but standing firm despite it.

"You two go back." Harry told them. "Warn the other teachers, maybe Dumbledore if he's returned. If they won't act before, they will now, because a student _is at risk_."

"You can't put yourself in danger like that, Harry." Neville started to object, but the white-haired boy shook his head furiously.

"No! Those adults won't act until somebody gives them the kick in the ass they need! Well, I'm giving them that kick."

Hermione didn't even object to his language. "But Harry... what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

Harry closed his eyes. Voldemort WAS with Quirrell. "I'll be fine... I got lucky once... maybe I'll be lucky again." _And I've got a heroic spirit on my side this time._

Suddenly, Hermione dashed at him and flung her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly in a hug.

"H-Hermione!" He felt very embarrassed by the close contact.

"You're a great wizard, Harry..." Hermione released him, blushing deeply. "Books! Cleverness! You've showed me that there are more important things... bravery... and righteousness, and..." She stepped back, biting her lip. "Be careful, Harry..."

Harry looked over at Neville. "You two be careful. Remember the brooms, and the flute for Fluffy."

The other boy nodded, his chin set. "Got it, Harry."

He watched them take drinks from the rounded bottle at the end of the line, shivering and describing the sensation as ice flooding their veins before passing through the purple flames, heading back the way they came. Harry didn't waste any time after that; after emptying the bottle of any remaining potion, he used the three poison ones to top it up. If Quirrellmort relied on it to go back, then he would get a nasty surprise.

_You do know that you have a high chance of dying, don't you? _Archer said, almost conversationally.

_But it's the right thing to do. Better than letting Voldemort rise again._

Archer chuckled, and for the first time in weeks, their relationship felt the same way it always had. _Go then. I'll support you._

Nodding, Harry threw his head back and swallowed the contents of the small bottle. Hermione and Neville were right, it did feel like ice filling his veins. He realized with some surprise that this was his first time taking a potion, and its effects were startling, to say the least. What he perceived as his magic core, and Archer referred to as his od, was altered slightly, somehow imbuing his body with the resistance to the black flame, which he tested by sticking his arm into. He wasn't sure whether it would be wise to Reinforce his body in this state, so he released it for the time being, focusing instead on readying himself.

"Let's do this. Synchro... start." Harry said, and walked into the flames.

The feeling was odd, and Harry wasn't sure he could breathe in it; he didn't try to, in any case. But another step, and he was through.

Quirrell was there, in his usual purple turban. "I'd wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"Quirrell." Harry nodded. His wand was in its holster, but his hands were free and ready to wield blades. Inside, Archer took note of the distance between them.

"You don't seem surprised to see me." The man observed. "But then, you were quite intelligent among those in your year."

"Did you know that you don't normally stutter through your lips?"

"Hmm. An oversight, but I have no further need of my guise as the p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell."

"You're doing it even now." Harry pointed out.

The possessed man growled. "Think it's funny, Potter?"

"A little." Harry admitted, then changed the subject. "What about the Quidditch match? Revenge for the troll?"

"Certainly. Thanks to your meddling, I was forced to call off my attempt to get past that damnable three-headed dog. It couldn't even bite Snape's leg off properly."

Harry didn't meet the man's eyes, but shuffled a little closer. He spotted something familiar behind Quirrell, something he never expected to see here. The Mirror of Erised. "That mirror..."

Quirrell turned. "This interesting-"

_Now! _Harry flooded his limbs with prana in an instant and struck. Both boy and spirit knew that a sneak attack was their best possible chance. There was a slight lag as his mind took a moment to comprehend the blueprint Archer was feeding him, and project the blades out into his hands, but they materialized in time for him to swing.

However, the man wasn't caught unawares so uneasily. He turned back almost as quickly, and flung out a hand towards Harry.

"AAARRH!" Quirrell cried out when the blade in Harry's right hand sliced deeply into the man's palm, but he accomplished his intent before the second blade to stab him in the body.

Harry found himself flying back, the recipient of a wandless Banisher. He crashed into the ground a large distance away from Quirrell, and the momentum slammed him into the wall of the chamber. Before Harry could do anything, ropes suddenly sprang out of thin air and wrapped around him, and a bolt of light struck his body and caused his weapons to fly out of his hands.

"Aaah..." The man moaned in pain, cradling his wounded hand. "Master..."

"_Fool!_" The whispery voice came from Quirrell himself. "_You let him wound you!_"

"I'm sorry, Master... I'm sorry..." The man grovelled.

Harry watched Quirrell mutter something over his hand, before straightening up with the wound no longer on it. _Wandless magic... that's supposedly really rare... what happened to his wand anyway? Is the possession the reason for both of those? He can't use his wand, but he can use wandless magic? So that's why he never taught any spells!_

"Damn you, Potter!" spat Quirrell, giving him an ugly look. "Perhaps a dose of pain shall teach you-"

"_Enough!_" The voice, which Harry was sure belonged to Voldemort, snapped. "_Do not... waste my time... any further..._" It sounded weaker this time.

"Of course, Master. It shall be as you say." Quirrell gave Harry one more hateful glance before turning to the mirror. "Mark my words, you'll die later, Potter."

Harry just lay there on his side thinking furiously. He tested the bonds around his body; if he Reinforced himself fully, he could probably break free of it, but Archer's experience told him that Quirrell would notice before he could fully free himself, so he discarded that idea. He couldn't even cut it off with a Traced blade since they were completely around his arms and legs. On the other hand, both Harry and Archer didn't miss the fact that Voldemort sounded weak, and weaker after he stopped Quirrell from doing God-knows-what to Harry.

_Suggestions, Archer?_

_Nothing for now. _The spirit sounded troubled. _What do you know of wandless magic?_

_Nothing much. But supposedly it's not easy to control... it's likely that he's restricted to spells that aren't too complicated._

_Pushing, pulling... if he had a wand, he's not using it._

Quirrell continued to examine the mirror, muttering to himself in frustration. "I don't understand... is the Stone in the mirror? Should I break it?"

Harry and Archer continued to discuss what to do in Harry's head. If Quirrellmort could get the Stone without a wand, then Harry and Archer were most likely done for. The best thing to do would be to buy time and hope his friends managed to get help quickly. Thinking quickly, he decided to ask about the voice... anybody would be curious about a disembodied voice speaking.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

Harry opened his mouth to interrupt.

"_Use the boy... use the boy..._" Voldemort moaned.

Quirrell rounded on him, and Harry fought to keep the glee from showing on his face.

"Yes... Potter, come here!"

He clapped his hands once, and this time Harry could actually detect the disconnection of the prana that marked the ropes vanishing. He got to his feet, a grim expression on his face.

"Come here," repeated Quirrell, backing away out of Harry's reach. "And if you try anything, it will be the last thing you do. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

_Archer?_

_Do it. Play along for now._

Harry sensed that Archer had a plan, but didn't question any further in case Quirrellmort got tired of waiting. He stepped in front of the mirror.

Unlike before, he didn't see Archer, his parents, and his friends. And despite knowing that Quirrell was standing right behind him, he didn't see the man either. He saw only himself, standing resolutely in an empty chamber. Then a moment later, his reflection smiled at him. As Harry watched on with only minimal surprise, his mirror self reached into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. Then it winked at him with a twinkle in its eye, and replaced it back in the pocket. Harry almost started when he felt a weight drop down into his real pocket. His nose itched fiercely as a powerful smell of prana hit him; the centaurs were right, the Stone was the real one.

He closed his eyes and sighed. _Dumbledore you old codger..._

"Well?" He heard Quirrell's impatient voice demand. "What do you see?"

Harry considered what would work best. _Best defense is a good offense, as they say_. "I see you failing to get the Stone." He smirked.

Pain blossomed in his right shoulder, and Harry grunted, clutching at the spot Quirrell had fired a spell at. It felt like a Stinging Hex, but much more powerful.

"Think it's funny, Potter?" Quirrell hit him with another hex, this time dropping Harry to his knees. "You know nothing of my Master's power! You're just a child!"

_Harry! _Archer's voice was filled with worry.

_This pain is nothing, Archer... _Harry clamped his mouth shut to stop himself from screaming.

It was a long time since he felt pain of this level. Even the muscle aches he got from overtraining weren't anywhere this bad. And this pain was only a fraction of what he experienced when he summoned Archer.

And Harry could remember that pain very well. He compared the past to the present, and found the present insignificant. He could make a move now, but he had to wait. He had to. Even when another Banisher threw him away from Quirrell, Harry didn't cry out.

"_Let me speak to him... face... to face..._"

"Master, you're not strong enough!" protested Quirrell.

"_I have strength enough... for this..._"

Harry pushed himself up on an elbow, and watched Quirrell unwrapping his turban. He wasn't sure what to expect at first, but then his mind rebooted itself enough to realize that Voldemort had said the words 'face to face'. Still, it was just too unreal to-

_Okay_, Harry decided when he saw Quirrell turn around to expose the back of his head, _seeing IS believing. Now I've seen a man with two faces. _

The face on the back of Quirrell's head could not be called human. It had a terrible quality to it, white-skinned with no nose, and Harry felt a slight bit of revulsion at being watched by those scarlet eyes. It was a testament to Archer's experiences that he hardly batted an eye at Quirrellmort's appearance.

_Don't falter, Harry. _Archer said calmly. _Keep your mind on your enemy. And don't meet his eyes._

Harry blinked, before straightening up further. Archer was right, he could not afford to get distracted at a time like this.

"_Harry Potter..._" The face breathed.

Harry didn't say anything. He was busy thinking about how to beat Quirrellmort. The man himself had a powerful advantage with his wandless magic, but right now, the man's body was faced away from Harry, exposing his back. If it wasn't for Voldemort facing him directly, Harry would have attacked instantly.

"_See what I've become?... Mere shadow and vapor... I have form only when I share another's body... but there's always those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, this past few weeks..._"

"But you haven't been getting it for a while, have you?" Harry guessed, and was proven correct when he saw Voldemort's already ugly expression twist further.

"_No thanks to you!_" The face spat. "_But no matter... once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?_"

Harry frowned. "It's fake, you know." He tried to bluff.

"_You lie! I can sense the magic on you!_" Voldemort spat.

So Voldemort could sense magic as well, Harry realized. But then he recalled a few other things. Voldemort was weakened. He needed unicorn blood to sustain himself. He hadn't been getting any for a while. It was a risky plan, but Harry didn't think he had any other alternative.

"Who are you anyway?" asked Harry.

"_Nobody has told you of me? Of the greatest Dark Lord ever?_"

"Who's the one lying now? You don't look so great." Harry goaded.

"POTTER!" Quirrell roared, and made to turn around.

Voldemort hissed angrily, and the man froze. Then those grotesque features shaped themselves into a mockery of a smile. "_Brave, aren't you... I always value bravery..._" Quirrell's feet began to walk backwards, approaching Harry, who shuffled back slightly to pretend fear, when he was actually digging his feet in for a charge.

"And besides, what's your name? Nobody ever said what it is."

The face started to laugh, but Harry's next line silenced it just as quickly.

"It's like a riddle, so maybe I'll call you Riddle." It was stretching things a bit, but it gave Harry the chance to use Voldemort's real name.

Quirrellmort froze. "_My name is... Voldemort._" The face hissed, in a deadly tone. "_Not whatever pathetic-_"

"Riddle." Harry repeated.

"_You dare..._"

"Well, you said you valued bravery, didn't you?" Harry was on a roll; this was almost like giving Snape lip. _Come on, where's the help... somebody come already..._

But Harry apparently went too far with his attitude, as a sudden Banisher threw him back against the wall. He cried out, having been taken by surprise, and slumped forward to the floor. His back ached, even through the Reinforcement. Before he could do anything, he flew back into the wall again. And again. And again. Harry's head smacked back against the wall a few of those times, and he struggled to think. He could hear Archer shouting in his head, but he couldn't make out what the spirit was saying through the signals his body was sending him as it slid down against the wall. Before him, he could make out a trio of figures approaching him.

"_Yes, boy, your parents were brave too... I killed your father first... and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother... needn't have died... she was trying to... protect you..._" Voldemort's voice, slightly fuzzy but distinct enough for Harry to hear, approached. "_Now give me the Stone... unless you want her... to have died... in vain..._"

But in his current mental state, Harry only registered one part of the speech.

Die.

He was going to die.

He was going to be killed.

He didn't want to die. Didn't want to die.

Harry's hand slipped into the pocket. It found the item within, gripped it. It felt right...

"_Yessss..._"

He didn't want to die.

His hand began to draw back out. Archer was saying something, but the words didn't make sense.

Voldemort was going to kill him.

Harry didn't want to die.

Conclusion...

He...

"_I tire... Quirrell..._" Voldemort sounded extremely weak.

Weak? Harry tried to recall what he wanted to do. It involved weakening that thing... Riddle, yes, that was its name.

"Master!"

"_Take the Stone... and kill him._"

Kill. That word again. It meant something to Harry. Something very crucial.

He had to...

Something clamped onto Harry's neck, and suddenly he felt a powerful warmth spread across it. His vision sharpened; Quirrell was howling, clearly in agony.

"Master, my hands... my hands!" The man's hands were blistering even as he moaned over them. Somehow he could not touch Harry directly.

"_Then kill him, fool, and be done!_" The face on the back of the man's head screamed.

Voldemort was going to kill him.

So he had to kill Voldemort first.

Prana pumped through Harry's magic circuits as he moved. His hand pulled free of his pocket, the energy spreading down the limb and into the object in his grasp.

Reinforcing his arm.

Reinforcing the pencil. One of those he always carried around.

And he threw it. Straight into Quirrell's head.

Harry had tried Reinforcement on nearly everything he owned at one time, and he found that with pencils, with their graphite core, it was more effective when he filled the core before he worked on Reinforcing the wood, especially since the carbon could take more prana. And that was what he did now, except he practically blasted prana into it.

But as with every object he poured too much prana in, the pencil broke, fragmenting from the inside out.

Just as it was penetrating its target at the high velocity Harry flung it at.

Harry stood there, braced against the wall, breathing heavily as he watched Quirrell's headless body sway slightly, before it fell over with a wet-sounding thump. Blinking, he wondered why his vision seemed to be failing him, as darkness ate inwards from around the edges. His legs didn't seem to have any strength, and he felt himself slipping downwards.

Falling into darkness. Was that someone else coming in through the flames?

Then Harry knew no more.

* * *

(1) One of my most favorite lines from BajaB's Harry the Hufflepuff. I tried to avoid direct lifting, but that line was already so simple that I couldn't think of any way to change it.

The lockpicking and use of the broomstick were also seen before in more than one fanfic, so I can't really say they're original either. I just went into slightly more description.

Well, there's some slight deviation from canon. Quirrellmort entered earlier because he was more desperate with the lack of unicorn blood, but still waited for Dumbledore to leave. Other than that, McGonagall still didn't believe them, they got through the challenges, except not the way the canon trio did.

According to canon, the chessboard is McGonagall's, but only the students say it (Percy Weasley during the last minute points), and we know how the Hogwarts rumor mill tend to include false information. Personally, I felt that wings on keys were more Transfiguration, while the chessmen were the target of animation charms, and I decided to write it in.

Quirrell scene... well, just put your thoughts in a review.

PS. I went to this Harry Potter exhibition in town recently, and saw some of the items that were used in the movies. One of the things that caught my attention was the Half-Blood Prince's textbook, which contained a recipe for Polyjuice Potion. Now, as readers of the book know, Hermione found the recipe in _Most Potente Potions_, and the potion itself took at least a month to brew. Yet when I peered closely at the textbook (Snape's handwriting is bloody hard to read), the ingredients didn't match totally, and the instructions made no mention of the brewing period. Just mentioning this.


	12. Tenth Spell

The light was a dull orange, and Harry let out a soft groan.

"How long are you going to lie there?" The voice that spoke was dry and authoritative, and very familiar to the boy.

Blinking, Harry sat up, using one hand to support himself against the ground. Even before his vision came back, he realized that he was in Archer's world, from the sound of the man's voice in his ears rather than in his head, and the feel of dry, sandy soil beneath his palm.

"Archer? Why am I here?" He finally looked up at the hero, who's looking back down at him.

"You passed out with your circuits active. Perhaps that's the reason you woke up here. I'm not sure about how your actual body is doing."

"Why did I..." Harry stopped midsentence as the memories came back to him.

To protect himself, he had taken a life. He didn't mean to... _no_, Harry thought, _I certainly did intend to kill Quirrell to prevent him from killing me. And I did. _

He waited for Archer to say something, knowing the hero's penchant for saving others. How would the man feel about him taking a life? But as time passed, Archer never even said a single word. It was Harry who spoke first.

"I killed a man." Saying it confirmed it beyond all belief in Harry, and he closed his eyes. "Not going to say anything?"

"No. I said it before, you can't save everyone."

Harry opened his eyes to glare at Archer. "That's different! I didn't abandon him when he needed saving, I KILLED him! I ended his life!"

"Is it really?" Archer stepped closer, forcing Harry to tilt his head back to keep the hero's face in sight. "Sometimes... to save a life, you have to take another. That's the truth of the world."

Harry wanted to argue, but he knew that the heroic spirit was speaking the truth. Quirrell wasn't just Quirrell, he was Quirrellmort, the host to the Dark Lord Voldemort, a being feared so greatly that most didn't dare speak his name, and killer of hundreds. By ending Quirrellmort's life, Harry had prevented him from getting his hands on the Philosopher's Stone, and from rising again through the use of the Elixir of Life, indirectly saving the lives of many.

But that didn't erase the fact that he had to kill a man to achieve it.

"One life to save ten. Ten to save a hundred. A hundred to save a thousand." Archer said in a quiet voice. "That's the Path of Asura. Shedding the least amount of blood to save the largest number of lives."

Harry wrapped his arms around his legs and curled up in place, trying not to think about anything. But in his mind, he could still hear his own thoughts from back then, even as Quirrell's head vanished in a gory spray from his thrown pencil.

"Archer..."

"Hm." Archer's grunt wasn't questioning what Harry was going to ask, it was a statement of his role as Harry's pillar of support; to be the listening ear for Harry when the boy needed it.

"Do all heroes... go through this?"

"That's... difficult to say." Archer took a breath. "Perhaps I should tell you a story..."

Harry didn't lift his head, but he listened. He listened as Archer told him of a king, a king who ruled over a country, and faced threats to the land under his rule. One man could not stand against an army, and thus the king raised an army of his own to counter the enemy's. However, an army needed supplies to function, supplies that the land and its citizens were unable to provide. The king, in order to save his country, was forced to harden his heart... and cannibalize a single village for its resources. By eliminating one village, the army was supplied, and the land was defended. At the cost of an entire village.

With his tale completed, Archer fell silent.

"What... what was that king's name?" Harry asked, still not looking up.

"Arthur Pendragon. Or King Arthur."

Harry's eyes widened, before closing. Fairy tales... were just fairy tales. Reality was much harsher. He thought that before, but now he believed it. Harry thought back to the time he visited his parents' graves for the first time, then the memory of seeing them in the Mirror of Erised; all he could do was to accept things, and move on. Harry opened his eyes and stood up, facing Archer.

"How long have I been in here?"

"Not that long." was the reply.

Harry tried to return to the real world, but found himself blocked. After a few more futile attempts, he finally gave it up, taking the failures to mean that his real body had yet to recover to the point where he could go back. Part of him was scared that he would have to spend an eternity in this unchanging world, but he could at least sense his real body existing outside of his normal perceptions, its natural body systems rebuilding itself until he could return.

So Harry did something he hadn't done for a long time. "Archer, tell me a story."

Archer gave him a good, long look over, as though trying to judge what story Harry would be most receptive to in his current state. Eventually the man sat down, cross-legged, and began to speak.

"This is a story about a War, fought by seven people, each summoning a single Servant..."

Harry sat down as well, and listened. He listened as Archer spoke of a single teenager with the barest of skill in magecraft was thrust into the War for the Holy Grail with no idea of what it entailed, and of how the boy sought to prevent the shedding of blood the other Masters were prone to commit. While Archer did not have the gift for storytelling, he was able to captivate Harry into listening without comment. Occasionally, he would pause to let Harry mull over what he had said so far, letting time pass before Harry would nod for him to continue with his tale.

On his end, Harry wasn't simply listening, he was applying his knowledge to the story. He could see that Archer had an uncommon amount of knowledge of the Grail War he was talking about, more so than any simple observer should have. It was natural, especially after the hero had stated that the Servants were summoned from the Throne of Heroes, which meant that Archer was one of those summoned in that Grail War. Harry finally understood the reason why Archer had introduced himself as such back then, under the name of one of the seven classes of Servants, and wondered who Archer actually was in history. Yet on the other hand, Archer seemed to have an equally clear view of the teenager who summoned Saber, which didn't make much sense. It was a contradiction, one that went against Harry being sure that Archer wasn't lying in any way, given the level of detail Archer was providing.

But still... the tale Archer was telling was undeniably interesting, and Harry found himself caught up in the excitement of the stories of battle. The giant hulk that was Berserker, turning out to be the famous Greek hero Heracles, completer of the Twelve Labors, and possessor of twelve lives! Lancer, a battle maniac who wielded a cursed spear, actually Cú Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster, whose cursed spear _Gáe Bolg_ ended the life of the teenager for the first time and marked the start of the Grail War. Assassin, the temple guard whose blade was uncommonly long, yet wielded it with a grace only a master of the sword could possess, was Sasaki Kojirou (Archer had to pause to explain who he was and his connection with Miyamoto Musashi), who could cut down a swallow in mid-flight with his technique. Rider, a blindfold-wearing mysterious woman with flowing purple hair who was killed early on, whose death set up a mystery for the teenager as he scrambled to find out who was the other Master in his school. Caster, an evil sorceress who was behind the rash of 'gas attacks' in the city, turned out to be Medea of Colchis (Harry finally understood why Archer didn't like the woman), the Witch of Betrayal who hailed from the Age of Gods, and the wielder of Rule Breaker, a dagger capable of dispelling and destroying any kind of thaumaturgy. Learning that there was an eight Servant who remained from the previous War was one thing, but to actually know that he was Gilgamesh (Archer paused for another explanation about Gilgamesh's identity) was another thing altogether. But the most amazing one of them all was Saber, a young girl whose skill with the sword saw her and her Master through many battles, and was actually Arturia Pendragon, not Arthur. Harry found it hard to believe that King Arthur was actually a girl, but considering that he was in the personal world of a heroic spirit from a different reality, it wasn't too hard to at least accept that there was some measure of truth in Archer's tale.

The entire story was a blend of fantasy and harsh reality, and Harry began to understand just what the teenager in the story might have faced as he fought to uphold his own borrowed ideals. But he still did not understand who Archer was, even when Archer admitted that he betrayed his own Master and allied with Caster, before doing the same to the witch and her Master and killing both of them.

"Why? Why would you do something like that?" Harry finally interrupted to ask.

"Remember my memories? That was the fate I was trapped in. A fate I sought to be free of."

Harry shivered as he recalled the experiences woven into those blades. "I think... I can see why. But who were you then?"

Archer gave him a twisted smile. "Figure it out yourself, Harry." And he said no more.

* * *

When Harry awoke from his time in Archer's world, it was to a different body condition than he expected; his mouth felt quite dry, his body ached quite a bit, particularly his back, and his limbs were stiff. He guessed that he was lying on a bed, from the soft feeling beneath his body, and his nose picked up the sharp smell of potions. Including the glow he could see through his closed eyelids, Harry concluded that he was in the Hospital Wing of the castle. After a quick check on the state of his magic circuits (They weren't at hundred percent, but functioned just fine), Harry performed a Structural Analysis on his own body, and found that his body had went through quite a hash of injuries, such as a concussion and some muscle tearing in his arm, but all of them were nearly healed.

Harry sat up, and rubbed his eyes, before looking around while blinking to get used to the sunlight coming in through the window. The first thing he noticed was the giant pile of sweets on the table next to his bed; it looked like half the stock of a candy store. As he had guessed, he was in the Hospital Wing, and from the color of the sunlight coming through the window, it was currently late afternoon. And that was Madam Pomfrey currently bustling out of her office over towards him.

"You're up, I see. How're you feeling?"

"Not good, that's for sure." Harry croaked, before spotting a pitcher next to his bed and grabbing it. After checking it contained water, he downed most of it and looked back at the nurse. "What are you doing?"

She was currently in the middle of waving her wand over him, muttering several incantations, releasing prana from the tip of it and using that released energy to scan his body. It felt different compared to his Structural Analysis, but Harry wondered if it might be more in-depth in other areas, since his magecraft only gave the basic state of its target, while the spells Madam Pomfrey was using could be providing interpretations of the results as well. He resolved to find out more about Healing-related spells, and reached for his-

Gone. Harry patted down the white robe he was wearing; he hadn't been wearing this when he went after Quirrell. "Where are my stuff?"

Madam Pomfrey finished with her diagnostic spells and tucked her wand away into an apron pocket. "They're in the drawer over there. Really, I expected you to be in Ravenclaw, from the number of notebooks you carry around."

"And how is my body doing?" Harry asked, pulling open the drawer to check. He was relieved to find everything safe. Except for one missing pencil.

"Overall, you should be up and about by the time dinner rolls around. But I'd like to keep you in for one more night just to observe. Just what did you go through to inflict all these injuries on yourself, I'd like to know."

"It wasn't my fault. Qui-" Harry stopped, biting his lip. "I was flung about without much choice in the matter."

"Indeed," The woman spoke crisply, "I was shocked at how much of a beating your body took when you arrived. But you're recovering just fine now."

"Wait," Harry frowned; something about her words bothered him. "How long have I been in here?"

"Four days. You missed the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match. It was quite an upset, I heard."

"_Four days?_" Harry said weakly. "What else have I missed?"

"Your friends bringing you all those, for one," Madam Pomfrey indicated the pile of sweets with a small wave of her hand, "Those beastly twins tried to send you a _toilet seat_, of all things! Tried, mind you, I won't have such things in my ward! Oh, and the Headmaster was here nearly the whole of yesterday waiting for you to wake. I confess that I thought you would wake up on the third day as well, but you wouldn't respond at all."

Harry already knew that he spent a long time listening to Archer, but he never expected that it would last four days. Injuries he received in Archer's world were only temporary, and he never stayed in there longer than he needed to. So it came as a surprise that he was out that long. Perhaps there was some kind of time lag?

"Ah, yes, there's another Quidditch match today. I believe it's one of your ideas, students versus the teachers."

Harry was flabbergasted. "Wait, that's today?"

"I was just about to go out to watch when you woke up." Madam Pomfrey informed him.

"Mmm..." _Archer, should I go?_

_That's up to you. Your body is up to the task. Just don't push it._

Harry nodded. "Can I go with you?" He asked the woman.

She smiled. "A Quidditch fan, Mr Potter? Oh, what am I saying, of course you are."

_I'm not, actually. _Harry privately disagreed, but he just nodded.

"Absolutely not. You need rest." Madam Pomfrey's refusal caused Archer to snort.

"You said I was fine!" protested Harry.

"That's only with proper rest."

It took him a few minutes of stubborn arguing and some threats of escape, but Madam Pomfrey eventually relented.

After a quick wash and a change into his cleaned robes, Harry packed away his stuff into his pockets (He wrote down a note to research into Healing magic) and followed Madam Pomfrey out of the Hospital Wing. His presence seemed to have an effect on the portraits, and word soon went around the frames that Harry Potter was up and about, a few of the subjects waved while most clapped. Asking the nurse revealed that apparently the whole school knew that he went to confront Quirrell, who was rumored to be a thief after a treasure stored on the third floor, leading to an altercation that left him unconscious for days afterwards and Quirrell defeated (_No mention of whether he's dead or imprisoned or what else... _Harry thought). A bit more questioning revealed that no one knew what was the battle was like, just that it happened. When he asked about what happened to Quirrell, Madam Pomfrey simply shook her head and told him to ask Dumbledore.

_Where did the Stone go, then? _Harry wondered as he stepped out onto the grounds. _It should have been in my pocket._

It was Archer who answered before Harry could come to the conclusion on his own. _That just means someone else took it._

Harry felt cold. Someone just took the real Stone that he fought to prevent from falling into Voldemort's hands. The thought occupied his mind so much that he didn't notice the cheering of the crowd in the stadium until somebody screamed his name.

"HARRY!" A brown missile was charging towards him, and Harry did what any normal person would do.

He dodged, and Hermione went quite a distance past him before managing to come to a stop. She gave him a reproachful look when she came back, this time much more slowly, but her hug wasn't diminished in the least, and caused his body to raise quite a bit of protest. She only released him when Harry whispered a reminder about their etiquette lessons, trying not to let his voice sound strangled.

"What have I missed?" asked Harry as he looked around.

Thanks to Hermione's exuberant greeting, most of the crowd had noticed his presence already, and the news was spreading as people passed on the word that Harry Potter had woken up. Up in the air, it appeared that the teacher's team was doing a good job of sticking it to the students, as (Harry squinted his eyes to see) Madam Hooch scored again to the groans of those who had yet to realize Harry's recovery. It looked like the student team was made up of a mix of students from all four Houses, with Wood as the Keeper and the twins as Beaters, while the remaining four slots were filled by one Slytherin, two Ravenclaws, and a Hufflepuff Seeker.

"Hooch scores, three hundred and twenty to ten-" Lee Jordan's voice was a glum mutter. "Come on, guys- what?" He broke off to listen to someone else speak. "Harry Potter's here? Really?"

Harry waved towards the dark-skinned boy when he looked over at where Harry was, before grabbing Hermione by the elbow and leading her to somewhere quieter so that she could fill him in.

"Neville and I got through the place safely, took the brooms up and all." Hermione explained. "We were telling McGonagall what happened when Dumbledore turned up - he already knew, said 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor with McGonagall and Snape in tow."

"So he knew that we went through those obstacles..." Harry said thoughtfully. "It's more of a setup than I thought."

"You mean he meant you to do it? That's terrible!" Hermione exploded, "You could have been killed!"

Harry shivered as he was reminded of his last thoughts before he blacked out. "Yeah, I nearly was..."

The girl went pale. "Tell me that's not true, Harry..."

Before Harry could say anything else, a soft cough made them turn their heads. Harry wasn't surprised to see Dumbledore standing there, wearing a benign smile, but he was surprised to find that he was angry at the old man. Enough so that he would have started shouting if Hermione wasn't there with him, Archer's calming presence be damned.

"Good afternoon, Harry, may I have a word with you in private?"

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea." Harry replied mildly, "It would be a bad idea to air dirty laundry in public."

Hermione was looking back and forth between the two wizards, one smiling reassuringly, the other staring stoically. Only when Harry pushed her lightly with a murmured request to rejoin the rest of the students, did she finally leave them. Dumbledore waited until there was no one else around before he took his wand out from his sleeve and waved it around, erecting a few wards around the two of them.

"Privacy wards, so we can speak without fear of being overheard." He explained in response to Harry's questioning look.

Harry figured that out by himself, but it was always nice to have confirmation with regards to the bounded fields he encountered. "Alright then. First things first, what happened to the Stone?"

"It has been destroyed. Voldemort will not get his hands on it."

Harry nodded; there were a few things he wanted to say to Dumbledore regarding the actions he had taken to protect the Stone, but he held off for now. "Second, what happened to Quirrell?"

Dumbledore met Harry's eyes with a mournful look. "I'm afraid to say that Quirrell is dead. His body crumbled into ash shortly after Voldemort's spirit left it. From the looks of things, it was an inevitable conclusion, one that he only delayed by taking the blood of a unicorn."

_That doesn't change the fact that I was forced to kill him. _"Right. Your turn, anything you'd like to ask me?"

The old man's expression took on a look of surprise. "I thought you wished to ask me more than just those two questions?"

"Of course I do, but I just want to know if there's anything you'd like to ask me first." Harry closed his mouth and waited patiently. When Dumbledore didn't say anything, Harry crossed his arms. "So you have nothing to ask... is it because you already knew what was happening? Because you set it up?"

"My dear boy-"

"Don't call me that." Harry said disgustedly. "Protections? If they can't stop three first-year students, how could it have stopped Voldemort? Who else was I supposed to take, Ron? For the chessboard, right?"

Dumbledore suddenly looked his age, old and weary. "Y-you're right, Harry. I apologize. But if I had protected it too strongly, Voldemort would have threatened one of the children under my care to force me to give up the Stone. I could not have that."

Harry realized that he didn't think of that, but he was too annoyed at Dumbledore to admit his own mistake.

"Fine." Harry said shortly. "Let's have some more truths then."

Dumbledore sighed. "Truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and therefore should be treated with great caution." Seeing the look on Harry's face, he hastily added, "Of course, I shall endeavor to answer your questions truthfully, unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"We'll see." Harry replied coldly; Archer was silent, but he could feel the spirit observing closely through his eyes, so he supposed he could trust the old man's word for now. "First, Voldemort said he killed my dad, but he also said that my mom needn't have died. Do you know why?"

Dumbledore looked torn, but before he could say anything, Harry went on, having read the change in expression.

"So you do know why. Why then? Why would Voldemort, who was a bigot for Purebloods, offer to spare my Muggleborn mother?" Harry didn't like using that term, but he wanted answers quickly.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, is something that is not my story to tell."

Harry swiftly latched onto Dumbledore's words. "Not yours... then whose? Snape's?" Harry recalled that the Potions teacher had been his mother's friend.

"Professor Snape, Harry."

Harry ignored that correction. "Right then. Second, why would he want to kill me in the first place?"

The expression on Dumbledore's face was even more sorrowful than before. "That, my dear boy, is another thing that I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will-"

"Headmaster," Harry ground out, "Let me say one thing. After my encounter with Quirrell, I am now able to see Thestrals."

"What?" said Dumbledore, weakly.

"I can now see Thestrals. Because thanks to whatever plan you had," Harry took a deep breath, "_I was forced to take a life!_"

Dumbledore staggered back, as though those words struck him physically. He looked far older than he had ever before. "My boy, my boy... I-I'm so sorry..." It was a desperate plea for forgiveness, in a feeble voice.

"Save your apologies. Are you going to tell me or not?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his face betraying his troubled emotions. "Please, my dear boy..." He swallowed. "You are asking a great deal of me..."

_Harry. _Archer said quietly.

_What, Archer? _

_Not this time, _came the reply, _Not when he's in that state._

Harry wanted to argue, but one look at Dumbledore told him that he was truly tortured by the request.

"Fine. But I will find out about this." Harry said, a bit ominously. "Now, what about Voldemort? He's not gone, is he?"

"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. But at least, with the Stone destroyed, he cannot come back through that method."

"Guessed as much," Harry muttered. "Then why does everyone think he is dead?"

"You must be aware, Harry, that people were afraid back then." Dumbledore seemed to regain his strength now that the topic was no longer on things he did not wish to discuss, though he regarded the boy before him with a troubled expression. "When news got out that the Dark Lord they all feared was gone, rumors spread, and everyone felt hope. Hope that I could not bring myself to destroy."

Harry couldn't resist adding, "Especially not with Death Eaters on the loose."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said sadly, "Voldemort's manipulations continue on in the Ministry to this very day. If some of them knew that their old master was still alive and waiting to rise again..."

_Or maybe because the Ministry itself is just corrupted enough to let them go free, _Harry thought cynically, but shook it out of his head. He had many more questions to ask. "Why did you put me with the Dursleys?" He asked, some anger leaking into his voice.

"Your mother, when she died to protect you, left a powerful protection on you. It leaves its own mark, not a scar, not visible... but a protection that lasts eternal." Dumbledore looked down. "I molded it into a protection that would stand for as long as you stayed in a home where your mother's blood dwells."

Harry coughed. "B'lsh't. Excuse me." He cleared his throat and continued. "But what about protections from inside? I was starved, forced to do chores, beaten by my uncle and my cousin's friends. Did you not consider those?"

"I can only apologize and beg for your forgiveness for an old man's mistake, Harry." Dumbledore said quietly. "I simply wanted to protect you from Voldemort, to keep you alive against his supporters, who were angry, desperate and violent even after their master had been vanquished."

"I can accept that." Harry said grudgingly. "Next, why keep me in the dark about my parents? I grew up thinking they were drunks who died in a car crash."

"I feared, Harry," Dumbledore's voice was heavy with emotion, "That if you did, if you knew of your heritage and your fame, you would have grown up a pampered prince."

"...can't accept that so much, but never mind." Harry muttered. "But what about the Invisibility Cloak? Why wait until Christmas to send it to me?"

"Ah - your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it."

"B'lsh't." Harry coughed again. _There's something else... something he isn't saying. That cloak could have saved Dad's life ten years ago, if he had it then._ He remembered something during his tussle with Quirrellmort. "Quirrell tried to choke me, but his hands burned... do you know why?"

"If there's one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. That love lies in the protection your mother gave you, and Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It is agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

"B'lsh't." Harry coughed for the third time. "I see."

_He's an idealist, _Archer delivered his conclusion of the old wizard. _Your mother's love might be a protection, but how many mothers died to protect their children? There's probably something else involved._

"Then how did I get the Stone where Quirrell failed?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something (_Even a stopped clock is right twice a day, _Harry thought). You see, only one who wanted to _find _the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life."

Harry tried to think of what else he wanted to ask, but his body was starting to feel the strain already. So he decided to end the conversation with one last request.

"Professor Dumbledore..."

"Yes, my dear boy?"

Harry bristled at the familiar mode of address, but didn't say anything. "Could you put me in touch with Nicolas Flamel?"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" Dumbledore looked like he was going to say something more, but desisted under the force of Harry's glare. "O-of course... I shall pass on your request to him, Harry. May I ask what you wish to talk to him about?"

"I need to apologize for the Stone." Harry lied.

"My boy, there's no need-"

Harry cut him off. "There is. If I don't do this, I won't feel comfortable. I'm serious."

The old wizard finally nodded. "As you wish, Harry."

Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at Dumbledore's defeated tone.

The match ended with the Hufflepuff Seeker grabbing the Snitch before Flitwick could, putting the score at four hundred and fifty to one hundred and sixty, and Madam Pomfrey hustled Harry back to the Hospital Wing to rest up afterwards. He had a slew of visitors coming to see him, all wanting to know about what happened when he went after Quirrell. Harry wondered if it had been such a good idea to get Hermione and Neville to go to McGonagall in the middle of dinner where the rest of the students could see. After some discussion with Archer, Harry decided to lie slightly, describing how he went through the defenses the way they were supposed to, attributing each success (except for the flying one) to people he knew, deciding (with Archer's advice) that the teachers wouldn't like it if it were known how easily he bypassed their protections. With a few repetitions, the story spread, and eventually no one came to ask any more.

The Student Council members turned up shortly before he was to be released for dinner.

"Pretty good job on setting up the match." Harry said casually. "Was that your work, Draco?"

"Of course." The blonde puffed his chest out proudly. "I did most of the work." He boasted.

"Good job then." Harry reached out, and they shook hands. "Pity about the match itself though."

"Yeah," Draco admitted, "We didn't really have much time to practice, so I had all four Quidditch teams try out. What happened to you? Is it true that you fought Quirrell?"

Harry let out a convincing snort. "If by 'fought', you mean 'got beaten up badly', then yes. And that's all I'm going to say on this. Now let's go, I'm starving."

He took a few steps, then stumbled as his left leg buckled slightly when he put his weight down on it. Su didn't say anything, but she took Harry's arm and put it around her shoulders, supporting him the rest of the way to the Great Hall.

"It's the end-of-year feast tonight. We thought you wouldn't wake up in time for it." Hannah informed him.

"Him?" Draco snorted from in front of them. "As if. He does so much by himself, if you hadn't noticed."

"I didn't think you'd notice," Su said mildly, causing Hannah to giggle.

"Oh, shut up." Draco was facing away, but Harry could see that the back of his neck was slightly red.

"Oh yeah," said Harry as he remembered something else, "What happened in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match?"

"Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor, especially since you weren't there." Hannah answered, but she seemed to be hiding something.

"By how much?" Harry pressed.

"One..." Hannah swallowed. "One thousand, two hundred and sixty to one thousand, one hundred and seventy." (1)

Harry smirked. "That must have really messed up the counters then."

"I heard the professors discussing disconnecting the Quidditch points from the Housepoints." Su admitted.

Draco sped up, grumbling. The other three watched the Slytherin leave, with mixed thoughts.

"I think he's disappointed that Slytherin isn't going to win the House Cup this year," said Harry.

"More like he's annoyed that Slytherin got one-upped by Ravenclaw and Gryffindor." Su added, and they all chuckled.

The Great Hall was decked out in red and gold, testament to Gryffindor's winning the House Cup, with a huge banner bearing the Gryffindor lion hanging behind the teachers' table. When Harry walked in (He disengaged from Su outside the Hall), there was a sudden hush, then everyone started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat near Hermione and Neville, and pointedly ignored the fact that people were standing up to get a look at him. Spotting Oliver Wood sitting some distance down, he caught the older boy's eye and raised an eyebrow in question. Wood flashed a thumbs up for the plan, but wore a depressed expression to show how he felt over losing the Quidditch Cup.

Dumbledore arrived soon after, his appearance causing the babble to die away.

"Another year gone!" The old wizard said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before the next year starts..."

_He's very good at hiding his emotions. _Archer said as boy and spirit watched the old man. _You can hardly tell that he received startling news a few hours ago._

Harry silently agreed, and continued to listen.

"Now of course, the House Cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff with three hundred and seventy-eight; in third, Slytherin with four hundred and twenty-two; in second: Ravenclaw with one thousand, five hundred and thirty-six, and Gryffindor, one thousand, six hundred and ninety-three."

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables exploded into a storm of cheering and stomping, while the Slytherins looked extremely put out. All members of both Quidditch teams were sharing devious grins as they clapped and cheered with the rest of their House. Hufflepuff were clapping along mainly because they were glad that Slytherin had finally been toppled from their position at the top.

_Seeing how everyone's so happy makes me understand why nobody realizes that the House Cup is pointless. The mood is infectious. _Harry's grin was slightly plastic as he exchanged hugs with his friends. _Just another bit of peer pressure._

_You're right. But you still think it's pointless, don't you?_

_Of course, Archer. _The thought helped Harry put a genuine smile on his face.

Hagrid came to Harry, blaming himself for letting Fluffy's weakness slip out to Quirrell, talking about how Harry nearly got killed, all for a dragon egg. Harry just kicked him in the shin, the same way he did when they first met, and told him to stop crying and forget about it since it was over and done with. He never expected to receive a leather-bound album of wizard photographs of his parents, and he felt

The exams results came out, and like Harry predicted, Hermione had the highest grades across the entire year, securing his win of the wager between him and Draco, who didn't do all that great, but was within the top ten himself. But Harry never expected to be third, just behind Lisa. Neville actually did quite well on Potions, something that the chubby boy attributed to Harry's help, and his good Herbology grade put him at the middle of the pack.

As the year wound to a close, Harry began rushing around dealing with things. One of the first things he did was to remind Draco of his wager, which the Slytherin acknowledged without much of a fuss; it didn't really take much effort on Draco's part to omit a single word in his vocabulary and treat one person normally. He then proceeded to gather those he trusted among his study group and fill them in on the true events of what happened down in the dungeons.

"Wait," Daphne interrupted, "You mean you didn't do all that?"

"No. Can you imagine how your teacher would react if you pointed out that you beat something he set up, because of a mistake?" Harry didn't look at Hermione, but he was sure that she blushed.

"Good point." Tracey admitted.

"That was pretty smart thinking, Harry." Fred congratulated.

"Picking locks... sounds like a skill we'll need, Fred." George suggested, and they nodded to each other.

"But that's just too easy! What sort of protections were they?" Susan demanded.

"I asked Dumbledore. He said if he made them too strong, Quirrell might have taken one of the students hostage instead."

The rest of them shivered at the thought of being held as a Dark wizard's hostage. Seeing that, Harry decided not to mention the fact that Quirrell had been possessed by the wraith of Voldemort.

"So what happened next?" Hannah asked curiously.

Harry glanced at those who knew about the Philosopher's Stone, and received encouraging nods. He nodded back, and told them about how Quirrell was after the Stone, for the Elixir of Life. He twisted the story slightly so that it made Quirrell out to be someone who was greedy for gold and immortality, not willing to stop at fixing his cursed body. Harry admitted that he was injured only because he goaded Quirrell and refused to give up the Stone, but it worked because it caused Quirrell's body to break down. Not the entire truth, but it was quite close, and they accepted it with promises not to let anyone else know how he had really beaten the teachers' defenses.

Except for a few. Harry expected the twins, for one, and Daphne, but he didn't expect Hermione, Neville, or Su to stay back afterwards to try and get the real truth out of him.

"Alright, spill." Hermione said impatiently. "What really happened in there?"

"We've told our share of lies." Fred grinned knowingly.  
"So we can usually tell when someone else is."  
"You were pretty convincing for a moment there, though." Fred reassured.

"You-Know-Who was there, wasn't he?" Neville said in a whisper.

"WHAT?" The rest exclaimed, staring at Harry as though he had grown two heads.

_Looks like the cat's out of the bag. _

_I know, Archer. _Harry shrugged. "Yeah. He was possessing Quirrell."

Daphne frowned. "What do you mean, possessing Quirrell?"

"You know the turban he wore? There was a second face on the back on his head. That was him, sharing Quirrell's body."

There was revulsion on everyone's faces, though the twins were so pale that it looked like they were bloodless.

"And that time in winter..."  
"Bouncing snowballs off that..."  
"You're not kidding, are you, Harry?" The two of them chorused, looking expectantly at him.

Harry shook his head. "I'm totally serious here."

"You're lucky he didn't kill you two." Daphne told them, and they nodded furiously. "What happened next?"

Harry really didn't want to admit that he had killed a person, so he told them that when Quirrellmort tried to grab him and found he couldn't, Harry took the chance to grab onto the possessed man until his body disintegrated. This time, they believed the story.

"But that means You-Know-Who's still around?" Su murmured.

"Not only that, he's trying to come back as well." Daphne said in a hushed voice.

Hermione spoke up. "We have to warn somebody!"

Harry looked around at the rest of them as they stared at the girl incredulously. "No one would believe it, Hermione."

"Why not?"

"Remember what McGonagall said about the Stone when you told her? Or how about when I tried to get Hagrid to help?" Harry asked rhetorically, and Hermione gasped. "Yeah... even Dumbledore knows, but he doesn't wish to reveal it because of the panic it might cause. Among other things."

"Other things?" Su echoed.

This time it was Daphne who gasped. "Those who got away."

"What do you mean?" Hermione, the only one who didn't have any background in the magical world, was confused.

It was the twins who explained it to her. "Some of the Death Eaters-,"  
"That's what You-Know-Who's followers called themselves." George elaborated.  
"Stayed out of Azkaban-"  
"The wizarding prison."  
"By saying they were controlled against their will." finished Fred.  
"A lot of people, our dad included, don't believe them, but the Ministry chose to pardon them." George grimaced.  
"One of which happens to be the father of Draco Malfoy: Lucius Malfoy."

"Not just him," Daphne added, "Crabbe, Goyle and Nott's fathers all went free under the same excuse."

"But..." Hermione said weakly.

"If they knew that You-Know-Who was still around," Su interrupted in a quiet voice, "Then they would be there to help him rise again."

"Gran said that Lucius Malfoy is bribing the Minister... if You-Know-Who comes back..."

"The Ministry will just roll over." Harry concluded. "So that's why we can't tell anyone else, Hermione."

"Just what is wrong with this world...?" Hermione whispered, staring around at them.

"I told you you'd encounter bigotry here." He reminded her.

"So what do you propose, Harry?" Daphne asked.

Harry looked at the black-haired girl, who stared back at him waiting to hear his decision. "There's not much we can do. Just train up, learn spells, maybe gather info."

"Blimey, and we're still playing pranks..."

Harry spared a quick glance at the twins as Archer spoke in his mind. "Actually, I think your pranks are ingenious. You should keep up with them."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"What I said. If anything, we could all use a few laughs. Voldemort- there's nothing to be scared about! He's not going to come back right away, so just relax a little. I know I will." _In between training, that is._

_Good to know that you're clear on your priorities. _Archer said dryly.

"But..."

"Hermione..." Harry spoke quietly, but forcefully. "Sometimes, the adults are right when they say we can't do anything. We're still young, so we should enjoy it while we still can. Okay?"

The bushy-haired girl bit her lip, but eventually nodded.

"That goes for the rest of you. Don't tell anyone else. In fact, try to forget it if you can and go on with life." Harry stood up. "He's been gone for a decade already." He said, then stopped before speaking anything further.

Archer chuckled. _I see you're getting smarter about not tempting fate. _

Harry ignored that statement.

* * *

All too soon, the time came for the students to leave. Harry made sure to safely pack away his notes on magecraft into his trunk, while he stored the Science equipment he brought and notes the group made safely away in his workshop, along with some things the twins asked him to hold onto (he confirmed that none of them would explode or activate some other effect over the summer first). Some of the lazier students scrambled to empty the contents of their wardrobes into their trunks at the last minute, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to the students reminding them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred sadly, while Harry resolved to test this at first opportunity), and eventually, they were released from the school.

Harry confirmed his guess as he passed by the older students boarding the carriages; he could see the skeletal horses there clearly now, not in the fade-in manner that he had before with Archer's help. The first years were led down into the underground harbor by Hagrid, where they boarded the fleet of boats and sailed back across the lake in the same way they first came to Hogwarts. They found their trunks waiting to be collected on the platform, arranged according to House. By the time they collected them and boarded the train, the older students were just getting off the carriages.

The train ride back was largely uneventful for Harry, apart from a short discussion with the Student Council about what sort of events they should have for the next year, he spent most of the time staring quietly out the window watching the scenery pass by, though he was actually discussing his options with Archer. His friends sensed his need for solitude, and left him alone, though there were a few interruptions to offer him some food from the lunch cart.

The twins were off somewhere plotting their next round of mischief, Daphne was talking to Tracey, Su was reading quietly in a compartment with other Ravenclaws; these four seemed to have taken Harry's words to heart.

However, Neville and Hermione weren't having much luck in doing the same; Neville was occupying his attention by watching Trevor so it didn't escape him, but occasionally he would glance over at Harry and shiver slightly, while Hermione had been staring at the same page in her book for the last few hours, also giving the white-haired boy sharing her compartment the occasional look, except hers was thoughtful.

Time continued to pass, and they changed from their robes into normal, non-wizarding clothing. Shedding those dark robes for brighter non-wizarding related clothing seemed to help them get rid of the dark mood, and slowly, conversation between them started to pick up. Harry also took the chance to look through his photo album, gazing at the pictures of his parents in their time at Hogwarts, and considered getting a camera to record some memories himself.

By the time the Hogwarts Express pulled into King Cross Station, they were back to speaking comfortably once more. Draco went off with a couple as blond as he was, vanishing in what Harry assumed was Apparation. Daphne and Susan met up with their parents and aunt respectively, and left by the means of Portkeys. For those who lived in the non-magical world, however, they had to wait patiently for a wizened old guard to let them through the ticket barrier in twos and threes, to slip into the non-wizarding crowd without being noticed.

"We should meet up over the summer, and not just to buy next term's books." Hermione told Harry and Neville.

"I'm sure Gran won't mind having both of you over. I'll send you an owl once she gives her permission." Neville waved and went off towards an stern-looking elderly woman with a stuffed vulture perched on her hat.

Harry nodded and waved, thinking about what he might have to do to prevent Neville's newfound confidence from being eroded away.

The twins were right behind them.  
"We won't mind having you over at our place as well, Harry."  
"Our Mom cooks a delicious meal herself, you can trade recipes!"

People jostled them as they moved towards the barrier, and some of them called out to him: "Bye, Harry!" "See you, Potter!" And he acknowledged each of them with a nod or wave.

They passed through the gateway together. "There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"

It was Ginny Weasley, Fred and George's younger sister, but from the finger pointing at Harry, it was clear that she was still very much a fangirl of his.

"Harry Potter!" She squealed. "Look, Mom! His hair really is-"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." The Weasley matron smiled over at them. "Busy year?"

"Quite. Have a nice day, Mrs Weasley." Harry gave an almost-smile to the youngest Weasley, and caused her to go bright red as he walked past. "See you, guys. Do something about her, will you?" He muttered to the twins, who nodded with grins on their faces.

Hermione's parents were waiting just a short distance away, near Platform Eight, and they greeted their daughter and her friend with wide smiles.

Harry didn't waste any time. "Top of the year." He said, thumbing towards the girl standing at his side.

The look on his friend's face as he threw her to the wolves would have made Harry laugh out loud if they weren't in public, but he did allow himself a self-satisfied smirk.

After Hermione's parents had worn themselves out congratulating her, Mr Granger turned to Harry.

"Thanks for watching out for her." He said, even as his wife gave Harry a hug that told him where Hermione got her habit from.

"It's no problem." Harry shook the older man's hand firmly.

"Tell us about school when we're in the car."

The Granger family plus one extra made their way out of the station to the parking lot, where they loaded the children's trunks into the boot of the car and piled in. The moment the door shut, Hermione was off, talking furiously as she described her lessons. Harry was sure that she probably wrote about them in her letters back home, but stayed silent. At least until her mother asked him, then it was his turn to talk about Hogwarts. Unlike Hermione's, his description covered more than just studies; he described his exploration, Quidditch, the food, and how he set up a Student Council.

"Harry," Mr Granger met Harry's eyes in the rearview mirror. "You're talking a lot more compared to before you went to Hogwarts."

Harry started as he realized Hermione's father was right. "Now that you mention it, yeah."

"So what do you have over the summer?"

"Homework, plus a ban on using magic outside of school."

"Wait, what do you mean you can't use magic outside school?"

"I mean that we aren't allowed to cast any spells during this summer period." Harry said easily.

"I wanted to see our little girl casting a few spells of her own..."

"I wanted to show you too, Mom... but the Statute of Secrecy is important." Hermione explained.

"They at least allow it in the privacy of our home, right?" Mrs Granger turned her head to look at the two children in the backseat.

Hermione shook her head.

Harry sent out a thought to his passenger. _It is unfair in that sense, isn't it, Archer?_

_Quite. Possibly another tradition that has been handed down from ages long past. _

The car slowed to a stop outside the house Harry stayed in. "Alright, here you go, Harry."

Harry retrieved his trunk from the boot, exchanged farewells with the Grangers plus promises to call and get together over the summer, and waved as they drove off. Then he looked around the neighborhood, nodding absently to some of the people he knew.

_Archer? Am I reading this correctly?_

_You are. _Archer confirmed. _A wide area bounded field covering the entire neighborhood at least._

Harry used a single magic circuit to probe the field slightly, taking care not to trigger it. _I see now... so this is how they monitor those who cast spells. Should I take it down?_

_That depends. What if its presence is being observed?_

"Harry!" Harry jumped a little and turned around to see his foster mother standing in the doorway with a wry smile on her face. "What are you standing outside for? Come on in!"

He grabbed his trunk and carried it over to her. "I'm back, Aunt Diana." Harry greeted.

"Welcome home, Harry. Are you hungry?"

"Rather." Harry said truthfully. A few Chocolate Frogs and Cauldron Cakes did not a filling meal make.

"Well, go put your trunk upstairs and wash your hands. Dinner will be ready in a moment."

When he entered his room, Harry wasn't surprised to find the concealing bounded field in it was in an extremely poor state; while they were stronger if the area they covered was smaller, without the proper upkeep or self-repairing attribute that Archer knew about but had no idea how to add, they would gradually break down over time, and Harry had been gone for nine months. He triggered his magic circuits and soon had it back up to full strength, before taking his wand out from its holster.

"_Lumos_." The wand lit up. "_Nox_."

Tucking away the extinguished wand, Harry stepped out of his room and probed the detection field once more; it hadn't been triggered. He could practice magic in the safety of his room without the Ministry knowing.

"Harry? Dinner's ready!"

"Coming!" Harry shrugged off his jacket and went to hung it up.

Then he stopped and stared. Inside his closet was a small stack of old books, with some tube on top of it.

"Aunt Diana?" He called out.

"Yes?" came the reply.

"Did you put these books in my closet?"

"What books?"

"Uh... never mind! I'll be down soon!"

Harry analyzed the books and the tube, and blinked when he found nothing dangerous. Inside him, Archer sucked in a breath as the information poured in. The tube was actually a kaleidoscope; he picked it up and looked through it at the window to see the colorful pattern.

_Zelretch... _Archer muttered.

_Who? _Harry asked, his hands pausing just above the books.

_Remember when I said that there is only one person I know who has any experience with multiple realities?_

Harry nodded, still in his hunched position.

_That was his name. One of the nicknames he holds is the name of the True Magic he controls. Kaleidoscope._

Harry's eyes widened as he realized what Archer meant, and he looked at the tube in his hands in a new light. _You mean... that guy was here? In my room?_

_It looks that way. What books are those?_

Harry finally picked up one of the books. _This... A basic theory book on... magecraft? _He had difficulty believing it. _And this one's on bounded fields!_

_That confirms it. Zelretch was here, and he left these for you. But why? _There was a brief moment of silence. _On second thought, perhaps it's better not to know._

_Why? Tell me more about this Zelretch, Archer. _

_I don't know him personally, but the tales I've heard aren't good. _

Harry was about to ask what sort of stories they were, but a reminder about dinner from downstairs forced him to put things on hold for the moment. Telling his foster parents about Hogwarts over the meal drove the thought out of his mind for the moment. But once he saw the books again, Archer had no choice but to tell Harry about the being Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. Ten minutes of storytelling later, Harry fervently agreed that it was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and decided to just accept the books without digging too deeply. Someone who could stop the moon from falling wasn't a person to mess with, and Harry didn't want to experience having the memory of an alternate self implanted into his mind.

* * *

About two weeks into the summer holiday, the doorbell rang while Harry was studying the book on bounded fields in his room. In those two weeks, he had mostly completed his summer homework, helped to fix a few of his neighbors' bikes in exchange for some money, exercised to become fitter, and eventually left him with nothing else to do but improve on his magecraft. Since he was the only one at home that day, he went to see who the visitor was, taking care to engage the safety chain before he opened the door slightly.

"Yes?"

The brown-haired man standing there was quite young-looking, but he had a few wrinkles and a look in his eyes that spoke of extremely long experience. While his clothes were simple and normal, Harry didn't doubt that this person was a wizard as well.

"Harry Potter?"

"That's me. May I know who you are?"

"You may know me as Nicolas Flamel. I heard you wish to apologize for something?" He spoke quietly, but his voice was the sort that caught and held people's attention.

Harry eyed the man a moment longer, before agreeing with Archer's assessment that it was okay to let him in. He led Nicolas Flamel into the living room and offered him a drink, only to have the Alchemist refuse. Taking a seat opposite Flamel, Harry looked into the man's dark blue eyes.

"I can see you wish to ask me some questions first. Go ahead and ask, Mr Potter."

"Thank you." Harry replied politely with a slight incline of his head. "Then I'll just ask this now... why did you give the real Stone to Dumbledore to protect after six centuries of doing so yourself?"

Flamel raised one eyebrow. "How did you come to the conclusion that it was real?"

Harry laid out his thinking, about how if the Flamels had so much experience in preventing those who would want their precious Stone, it meant that the one that Dumbledore was holding on to was a fake. Except the centaurs had predicted that 'what is fake is real', which meant that the Stone was actually real. He even added that he could feel the power from the Stone when he retrieved it from the mirror.

When Harry finished talking, the last thing he expected was for Flamel to start laughing. "HAHAHAHA! So the centaurs said that, did they? That means I succeeded better than I expected!"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean, sir?"

Flamel waved a hand. "Don't call me sir. Just Mr Flamel will do. As for what I mean - your first guess was correct. That Stone was a fake. A well-constructed one, but a fake nonetheless."

Harry was shocked. "Th-then the centaurs?"

"It was a lure, simple as that. A _real_ lure, in the form of a _fake_ Stone. Purpose and form in one." Flamel said bluntly. "Centaurs are well-versed in Divination, but most of their predictions are ambiguous. That statement had various interpretations, and you, Mr Potter, simply went for the wrong one."

Harry's jaw dropped open. _Damn! I never thought of that..._

_Close your mouth, Harry. You'll catch flies. _

_Oh, sorry, Archer. _Harry closed his mouth and looked at Flamel. "So does this mean I don't have to apologize for getting your Stone destroyed?"

"No, you don't. Just keep it a secret from Albus Dumbledore." Flamel winked. "Everybody will believe him when he says I'm dead. He thinks that without my Stone, I and my wife will only live as long as our limited store of Elixir of Life will allow, and hopefully that will cause the majority of the greedy pigs who want my Stone to give up."

"Nice prank." Harry nodded appreciatively. "I have one last question."

Flamel gave him a small smile. "Ask."

_I think direct is the best. _"Could you teach me some Alchemy?" Harry asked hopefully.

Harry had read up on Alchemy together with Hermione after they had found out about the Philosopher's Stone. A combination of magic and ancient science, it involved the study of the four basic elements, as well as the transmutation of substances. To Harry, it was another desirable field of knowledge that combined the best of both worlds, and he wanted to see what he could do with it. But to do that, he needed to learn the basics first.

The Alchemist chuckled. "To the point, aren't you, Mr Potter? But no, it's too difficult for one as young as you. Ask Albus to show you the basics first. You can look me up after you graduate, and perhaps I'll consider it then. That's if you can find me, of course."

"But I already found you by getting Dumbledore to ask you to come here." Harry pointed out, grinning.

"And a very sneaky thing to do it was." Flamel nodded approvingly. "But you have to do better than that if you want me to teach you Alchemy."

_Archer? _

_I can't help you here, Harry._

"Mr Potter."

Harry blinked and met Flamel's eyes. "Yes?"

"Who were you talking to?"

Harry jerked back in shock. "What?"

"Six centuries of experience, remember? I can tell from your expression that you were listening to someone else. Don't try to lie to me, boy. I can read you easily even without Legilimency."

Harry opened his eyes wide. "Legilimency? What's that?"

Flamel eyed him for a moment. "Good attempt at trying to change the subject, but not good enough. Who were you talking to?"

_Archer... _Harry's fingers twitched in preparation to Trace.

Archer sighed. _It's your fault for asking to see the man, Harry. Just tell him. This man is someone who can keep a secret._

Harry nodded and looked at Flamel's waiting expression. "Mr Flamel, what do you know of alternate realities?"

To his credit, Nicolas Flamel wasn't difficult to convince of Archer's presence inside Harry, especially once Harry Traced a cutlery knife for the man to compare with the original. Flamel judged them both to be nearly similar, with the added comment that he might not have been able to tell that there was a difference if Harry hadn't done it in front of him. Harry and Archer had been unsettled by Flamel's keen perception that it wasn't until after they displayed Tracing that Archer remembered the monitoring bounded field, but a quick check revealed that it had not triggered; magecraft went undetected for some reason.

"If the British Department of Mysteries knew about you, they'd surely take you in for research." Flamel interlinked his fingers and studied Harry carefully. "Magic from a different world..."

"Magecraft." Harry corrected.

"Magecraft." Flamel agreed. "A fascinating field to be explored."

There was a short period of silence between man and boy as they stared at each other, trying to predict what the other was going to do.

"How about a trade, Mr Potter? I teach you basic Alchemy, and you teach me basic magecraft. A man with something to protect can't have too many defenses."

"I'm not much of a teacher, Mr Flamel," Harry warned, "And to be honest, neither is Archer."

_That's only because I'm a specialized magus. _Archer sniffed. _Don't blame me for not being able to teach you the other areas._

"I'm a researcher, Mr Potter. I'm sure I can figure the rest of the way out on my own."

"To be a magus means to walk with death. Experimenting might be dangerous."

"Don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs, boy." Flamel retorted, but with good humor. "So do we have a deal?"

The two parties started to negotiate the terms, and after a good hour and a half, they were finally agreed: Harry and Archer would spent at least a month with the Flamels, where they would teach Nicolas and Perenelle what Archer knew of magecraft, and in return, the old couple would teach Harry Alchemy and whatever other skills he could absorb on the side. When his foster parents returned, they were naturally suspicious, but Nicolas ("If we're going to be living together learning from each other, you might as well call me by name or Uncle Nic," he told Harry) was able to persuade them into giving permission over dinner.

"Well, Harry," Nicolas said, shaking the boy's hand firmly. "I'll come pick you up sometime in early July. Of course, I'll be sure to let you know the exact time. Just-"

"Don't tell Dumbledore. Got it." Harry nodded, and Flamel Apparated away without a sound.

Harry smiled widely to himself. This summer looked like it was going to be very interesting, and he had lots to do even before he left.

* * *

(1) In canon, Ron said Ravenclaw steamrollered Gryffindor. At first I thought, steamrollered means they must have lost by quite a wide margin. Yet when you look at the final House Point score, the difference doesn't seem that much. Thus my conclusion is that Ron Weasley, because of his love for Quidditch, exaggerated the difference. And we know that he does exaggerate other stuff, like when Sirius broke into Gryffindor tower.

And so, the first year arc has come to an end. Really, JKR's portrayal of Harry's reaction to Quirrell was a bit odd ('oh, Quirrell failed to get the Stone? Ok'), but perhaps it's because of the Dursleys beating curiosity out of him. Not too sure about how my 'Harry realizes that he has murdered' will be received, but then again, I usually write based on my subconscious whims.

I will eventually explain how magecraft and magic (Not True Magic of Nasuverse!) differ.

Nothing else to say, so review please!


	13. First Curse

It was nighttime, and Harry was sitting at a desk penning a letter under the light of an electric lamp. Occasionally he would pause to tap the feathered end of the quill against his chin as he thought about what he would write next. At moments like these, he would look out the window, where he could barely make out the shapes of the plants in the Flamels' garden in the dark, but still see the large field of moon-washed grass their small cottage overlooked. Eventually, he finished the letter and set down his quill, before rereading the letter once more.

**Dear Hermione,  
Thanks again for helping me send on the letters to the rest. The Flamels really take their privacy seriously, so I can't use Ilya for anything other than to drop off mail at the post office (She's starting to get a little irritated with me having so little work for her. I'm considering having her stay with you). It's a pity you aren't here learning Alchemy with me, but I promise I'll show you what I know when we go back to Hogwarts this September.  
Since the last time I wrote, I've managed to solve the phrase Uncle Nic gave me: 'One is all, all is one'. I won't say it here, since I know how you like to solve things on your own, but to summarize Alchemy, it's like convincing reality that something should be in a different way, and reality will do the work of making it so. Of course, it's nothing like our wand-waving magic. Alchemy is far more permanent, and because of its scientific roots, much harder. I've drawn so many circles (for alchemical arrays) that I actually dreamt about circles last night, and my brain occasionally feels like it'll burst from all the symbols and elements I have to memorize.  
It's not just Alchemy that I'm learning either. Aunt Nelle has also been introducing me to the French culture, but I'm having a bit of difficulty in mastering the language (Having someone burst out laughing because of your accent is NOT encouraging). Other than that, I've been running to keep fit, and have learned a few other spells as well (Yes, I'll show you them when we go back to Hogwarts). Did I mention that because I'm under heavy wards, I can use magic without fear of the Ministry coming after me? But before you start seething about the unfairness, don't forget about the Purebloods. I don't know about Neville or the Weasleys, but if all it takes to be able to use magic over the summer is to live in a place that is warded, don't you think it's unfair to those who aren't born to magical parents? And before you start complaining and threatening to write to the Daily Prophet, I should tell you that it's no use. That's how our wizarding society is, and that's what I intend to change in the future.  
But for now, just study and have fun. Don't coop yourself up at home with your books, go out and enjoy life.  
Your close friend,  
Harrry.**

Harry nodded to himself. _This won't cause her to go into a righteous fit, will it, Archer?_

_Probably not. If it's just a single thing, she'll most likely think you'll have already thought of a solution._

_Yeah. I thought so too. _Harry sighed and folded the paper to put into an envelope. _Imagine what would happen if I mentioned the fact that she'll have next to no chance of a good post if she joined the Ministry, or how most people will look down their nose at her after she's left Hogwarts, or that Britain isn't looked on favorably by the rest of the world._

_I can tell you can't wait for the chance to bring down that institution._

Harry snorted, before licking the stamp to paste onto the envelope. _Of course you can. You felt my emotions when the Flamels told me about it, right?_

_Hm. Well, stop dwelling on things you can't change for now. _Archer gazed off into his own world. _I never expected your wand magic to work like that._

_I didn't either._

Nicolas Flamel's explanation of Alchemy was that it involved the use of nature, or as Archer put it, Gaia. While the more mundane versions simply involved using a slight spark of magic to catalyze technically natural reactions under unfavorable conditions, it was the use of alchemical arrays that intrigued Harry and Archer. According to Nicolas, the magic the alchemist pumped into the array would power it, and that array would link to nature, directing it to transform or transmute the targeted material. Since it was nature itself doing the work under the alchemist's direction, the results happened to be permanent.

But the books on magecraft provided a different explanation. According to it, a school of Magecraft imprinted its system upon the world itself, and a magus of that school would function by the rules of the system to produce thaumaturgic effects, even the school of Alchemy. Thus according to those books, what Nicolas was doing was to first imprint his system with his alchemical array, and subsequently utilizing that system, but without connecting to or powering the system through any magic circuits. Archer described Nicolas's explanation as something called a Marble Phantasm, where the user connected to the world itself at large and influenced it to act according to the user's will. Except that it didn't seem likely as Marble Phantasms were usually held by those who had a strong connection to nature, which Nicolas did not. It caused a great deal of discussion between man and spirit, often bordering on an outright argument.

It was Archer's detection of the bounded field that allowed Harry to propose a new theory that satisfied both men and their ideas. What the alchemical arrays did was to erect a momentary bounded field as magic was first pumped into them, and the alchemist's will would alter the rules of the world within it in that instant. As the field broke down, Gaia reasserted itself within the area occupied by the field, leading to the production of the alchemical effect. They proceeded to test this theory repeatedly by preventing the formation of the bounded field first, then trying to maintain the rule alteration after the field breakdown. The former resulted in a fizzling failure as something (It was assumed Gaia) resisted their changes, while the latter created the alchemical effect, but took a lot more energy (luckily they had Elixir of Life to aid the subsequent recovery) afterwards as Gaia realized the system it was following was false and sought to tear it down; In the end, everyone agreed that Harry's theory was correct. The Flamels didn't think it was funny at first, but Harry's joke that their Alchemy involved pranking Gaia soon proved to appeal to their sense of humor.

When Perenelle pointed out that the first test they conducted triggered the detection ward the Flamels used to detect the use of magic where the second test and the normal use of Alchemy did not, the entire group was stunned as the implications of it struck them.

'One is all, all is one'. According to Nicolas, 'one' represented the alchemist himself, while 'all' represented the world. The phrase was indicative of how the alchemist and the world had to be one and the same in order to truly produce an alchemical effect.

Except that when Archer had pointed out how wizards had a much larger store of od compared to the magi of his world, it took on a whole new meaning.

Wizards didn't just have a bigger connection to the Root that magecraft was based on, which was the cause of their need to recover after they expended their magic. They were more like mini versions of the Root themselves with the large capacity of magic they possessed.

Wand movements, incantations... they were how wizards imprinted thaumaturgic systems onto their own core before channeling prana through their artificial magic circuit. Every time a wizard casted a spell, he formed that system and powered it with magic from his own core to create the spell effect, which he then manifested through his wand. For every different spell, a different system was required. That explained why Harry's use of magecraft could not be detected by the monitoring bounded fields wizards used, because what they were meant to detect was the formation of a thaumaturgic system, while magecraft simply used what was already there. As Harry put it, it was like walking down a road that was there while the police kept an eye out for someone building a new road to do the same. After much discussion, Harry and the Flamels agreed to keep this secret to themselves, and Harry continued to work on learning Alchemy while teaching the Flamels magecraft.

It also proposed a new theory about silent, still, and wandless magic, as well as the corrupting influence of what wizards called the Dark Arts. For the first two, repeated casting of the spells would leave a memory imprint of the system that the wizard could then cast without speaking the incantation or waving his wand in the required motion, though the power would be weaker as the thaumaturgic system would not be fully formed. Wandless magic not only comprised that concept, but with the omission of the 'magic circuit', the wizard had to form the connection with his od as well, thus wandless magic, while possible, could only work with simple spells. Harry was able to prove this partially, as he could release the spell effect from his left hand by triggering his circuits in that arm after making the wand motions with his right. However, for the final one, the thaumaturgic systems formed were possibly damaged or long-lasting, remaining imprinted in the caster's core and instilling them with a need to use those spells more often, which propagated the corruption to the caster. As they had no way of proving the last one without risk to themselves, Harry resolved to NEVER use any Dark Arts spell.

Surprisingly, both husband and wife possessed natural magic circuits, possibly due to their being born in a period where circuits still existed, but the number of them was small; Nicolas only had three while Perenelle had two. In addition, due to six centuries of not being used, the couple suffered severe shock when Harry helped them to finally open their circuits, and only survived because Archer made sure that they had Elixir of Life at hand. Even then, their circuits could not handle much energy despite their large core, and the Flamels decided that magecraft was to be nothing more than a last resort for them.

For Harry, he also had been progressing slowly in his magecraft as well, especially since Archer's circuits was simply not suited to much else other than Tracing. So far, he managed to improve the speed and quality of his Reinforcement and Tracing, reducing the time it took to comprehend the blueprints Archer provided. But his largest amount of progress was in bounded fields, as Harry managed to learn how to raise them faster and to last longer, as well as including more effects than before. Still, he chafed slightly at the restrictions he was under, especially when he read about how magi were normally able to manipulate an Element or more depending on their affinities. He had no idea how to tell what his Element was, since he was literally the only magus of note in this world.

Harry set his letter to Hermione aside and began looking through the rest of his letters to his friends. Apart from Hermione, whom he swore to silence, none of the others knew that he was currently with the Flamels, and his letters to them reflected that. His reply to Neville was an apology about not being able to attend his birthday (which was one day before Harry's), plus an agreement to visit Longbottom Manor sometime. The twins had written about how they were gradually working on breaking their little sister of her hero worship of Harry, but Harry had some misgivings about their method, and wrote back asking them for more confirmation. The ones with Su was a description of the different cultures they were both experiencing, as the girl was currently visiting Taiwan, while Daphne wrote to him about her family (particularly a bratty little sister), and how her father, who owned several shops, passed on his thanks regarding some of the items Harry had created during his first school year, and was now selling quite well; she promised to pass him the key to the vault that held his share of the earnings back at school. Susan wrote about her summer job at the Ministry in her aunt's department, describing some of the Aurors she met working there; Harry was amused to read about her reaction at meeting the one the Hufflepuffs called She-Who-Has-No-First-Name, a Metamorphmagus who graduated the year before they first came to Hogwarts. All of his letters to them talked about his vacation in France, describing whatever part of the culture Aunt Nelle introduced him to without revealing who his hosts were, or where he was staying (He wasn't even sure himself as he had taken a series of Portkeys, and one of the conditions of his stay was to never ask).

He put each letter into its separate envelope, and wrote the recipient's name on them before putting all the envelopes into a large one, which had Hermione's address written on the front. Pursing his lips, he whistled, but before he even finished the short note, his pet snowy owl Ilyasviel came fluttering down, landing on the windowsill and sticking on a leg with an impatient hoot.

"That desperate for some work, huh, Ilya?" Harry grinned.

Ilya turned her head to the side huffily, but kept her leg out for him to attach the envelope. After affixing it to her leg, Harry stroked her head lightly, and let her nibble on his finger to show her affection for him.

"Pretty and useful, you're an amazing owl, Ilya." Harry complimented her.

She fluffed her chest feathers out proudly, and took off once Harry pulled his hand back.

Archer spoke up. _I think you should sleep early. Nicolas is going to teach you how to duel tomorrow, so you should get proper rest beforehand._

Harry nodded and turned out the lamp. _You're right. Good night, Archer._

* * *

"You've covered quite a lot while you were here, Harry. That Structural Analysis of yours is quite useful." Nicolas mused as he looked down the list of what Harry had gone through so far.

"Yes, it is." Harry grinned.

"Now, dueling!" The Alchemist banished the paper over to the table placed against the wall. "If what you told me about that Dark Lord with a made up French name who tried to steal the fake Stone is true, this is a skill you're likely going to need in the future."

Harry nodded, his grin gone. Archer had told him that Voldemort had a great deal of pride, and that pride would mean Harry was on Voldemort's list for sure. And being on Voldemort's list meant he would also be on the list of various Death Eaters.

Nicolas proceeded to show Harry how wizard duels usually worked, in a more no-holds-barred way. The people who were after the Philosopher's Stone rarely followed the rules, and Nicolas and Perenelle both had a lot of experience in fighting those thieves off. Still, he did show some of the more publically-known customs, such as delivering the challenge and bowing to the opponent, before he got down to the gritty part.

First he introduced several stances, which simply involved having the wand held in various positions relative to the body for the caster to begin with the proper wand motion; holding it pointed forward at the opponent or upwards was a stationary defensive stance meant for firing quick, simple spells, holding it pointed down usually was meant to deal wide-ranged, slashing-like spells mixed with Transfiguration, holding it raised at the caster's side allowed for direct but deadly shots, and the quick raising of magical defenses, and lastly, holding it like the tail of a scorpion behind the caster was the most offensive-inclined stance, as the wide wand movements starting from that position usually indicated powerful, shield-breaking curses, with little propensity for defending, forcing the caster to dodge.

Archer commented that most wizards would have little concept of footwork, and Nicolas laughed loudly upon hearing it.

"That's very true. I had to learn on the fly myself," confirmed Nicolas. "Most wizards talk about having talent in dueling, but I notice that those who are said to have talent are those who can move properly. Blocking only takes one so far - dodging is important, and thus-" The man's legs moved quickly, taking in around in a certain pattern. "Footwork."

He then proceeded to explain about how the stance a dueler used was dependent on his casting preferences. The Alchemist and his wife had mastered three distinct styles each, which they could use interchangeably to take their opponents by surprise. Nicolas pointed out the shelf of trophies won in dueling championships all over the world, where he and Perenelle would enter from time to time under disguises to keep their skills in practice, as well as to study and copy the skills of others.

"Simply put, when I get into a real fight, I try to win by any means necessary," said Nicolas bluntly. "Forget honor or fair play. If copying works, then use it."

Harry nodded.

The second thing Nicolas explained about dueling was the repertoire of spells that could be used in offense. A great number of the jinxes, hexes and curses used by British wizards tended to fly in a direct line, which was why it was rare for a British wizard to succeed on the overseas dueling circuits unless he used Transfiguration as well, because direct attacks like that only worked when they came too fast to properly dodge or defend against. Showing off his extended knowledge, Nicolas demonstrated an Asian spell that flew in an arc to explode at its target, then a Russian piercing hex that bounced off any hard surface. He then proceeded to show Harry what was called a 'spell chain', which several spells cast in a continuous flow by having the last wand motion of one spell link into the first of the next, and directed Harry's attention to several books that would help in the creation of a personal spell chain, as well as listing some of the more common ones. A spell chain was meant to overwhelm an opponent with a large number of attacks, and were the staple of most British duelers despite their difficulty to master, and those wizards would practice their preferred ones relentlessly until they could cast as many as six spells in a single second.

Harry could understand why some people still used the well-known ones even if everyone they met would recognize them, because they just _worked_. As he watched Nicolas demonstrate a seven-spell chain on a conjured marble block, the boy had the image of a spearman wielding his red weapon in a series of stabs and slashes.

But he was more interested in the next class of spells Nicolas introduced: Transfiguration. Most of the time, the duelers would transfigure part of the stage into blades or other sharp implements that they banished towards their opponent, but it was more common to see them use animals like birds (which could also be summoned by the _Avis_ spell and directed to attack with the incantation _Oppugno_) or wolves, but Nicolas gave Harry a shock when he conjured a heavy wooden block, which he then transfigured into a grizzly bear.

Grinning, he cancelled the transfiguration and Vanished the wood. "Surprised, weren't you? That's an important thing to make use of. Startling your opponent might give you that moment you need to win."

Archer added his agreement; the sight of a feral dog would inspire the flight instinct in most humans.

And that brought them to the final part of Nicolas's presentation, which the man referred to as supportive magic, under which defensive magic was included. Defending in a duel was simple; the dueler either dodged, blocked with magic, or blocked with a physical shield. It was the other part of supportive magic, the spells that weren't directly offensive, that added a whole new angle to dueling. Besides attacking the opponent's senses through a bright flash or a eardrum-rupturing blast, a person could also use illusions meant to distract and fool, or forego spells entirely and just throw a potion vial that would release a poison or explode. This was the part that Harry found the most interesting, as the Flamels had researched into various fields of magic and found ways to incorporate a great deal of their findings into their combat style.

"Which reminds me, do you remember me mentioning Occlumency?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Uncle Nic."

"It's a magical art of mental defense. When I first met you, I mentioned Legilimency. That would be the opposite - attacking the mind." Nicolas explained. "Some duelers use it to either read their opponent's intentions, or if they are skilled enough in the art, to actually influence their opponent's actions."

Harry suddenly came to a realization. "Uncle Nic, does Legilimency work through eye contact?"

"Why yes, it can work that way, but how did you know?"

Harry filled the man in on how Archer detected an intrusion of prana when he made eye contact with Snape or Dumbledore.

Nicolas frowned. "Use of Legilimency is restricted around the world. Legally, a Legilimens is not allowed to perform it on a person unless that person gives permission, or an official warrant is provided."

_So Snape was committing a crime... Well, not that I can get rid of the guy, considering what Dumbledore lets him get away with. _"Hmm. Then I guess I better learn Occlumency then." Harry said casually.

Nicolas eyed him for a moment, before deciding not to say anything else. He glanced at the clock

"I'm a bit parched from all this talking, so why don't you show me what you've got while I take a drink, Archer? I'd like to see what Tracing can do when used offensively."

Nicolas conjured up a giant cube of granite two meters tall, and stepped aside.

Harry listened to Archer, then passed on the words. "Most of the time, he simply uses them as normal weapons combined with Reinforcement. But there's another way he can use it." He reported.

Nicolas raised a curious eyebrow, and Harry could see Perenelle looking in curiously through the doorway. "Go on then."

Harry nodded and stepped back slightly. "Synchro... start."

His eyelids fluttered as his brain processed several different blades channeled from Archer's mind. "_Trace... on._" The circuits they shared flared to life as Harry ran prana through them.

"_Compete Trace... standby!_" He opened his eyes wide, focusing on the stone before him.

Dozens of weapons in various sizes materialized in the air around him, all pointed towards the target. Swords, blades, spears, axes, katanas, every single one of them reproduced in nearly full detail from Archer's memory. They heard an appreciative murmur from the side, but didn't avert their eyes away. Most of Harry's attention was focused on feeding prana into the projections to maintain their existence in this world.

"_Complete Trace..._" Harry clenched his fists as he finally unleashed the missiles. "_CONTINUOUS FIRE!I_"

"STOP! STOP!"

Harry stopped the flow of prana, and the projections vanished. He fell back onto his butt, staring open-mouthed at what was left of the granite block as the dust cleared away. _Oh my God... Archer, you could do something like this?_

"You could do something like this?" Nicolas had no idea he was echoing Harry's thoughts.

One second of all those weapons firing in a barrage of steel had reduced the granite block, and a great deal of the floor beneath it, to nothing but rubble. All three people in the place were staring at the decimated remains in awe.

It took Archer a few tries before he managed to get Harry's attention. "A-Archer says... th-this would normally take too long to prepare... so he never let me use it until now."

"I've seen some rather amazing duels in my time, but something of that caliber would take out all but the strongest wizards." Nicolas murmured, loud enough for them to hear. "But Archer is right. In an actual duel, that technique would take too long. Your opponent will be able to defeat you before you can do anything with it."

"Alright, boys. You two clear out while I fix this damage." Perenelle entered the room, wand already in hand. "Nicolas, you can continue to teach him outside. Keep him from doing any more damage to the place, alright?"

"Yes, dear." Nicolas went over to Harry and helped him up. "Come on, boy, let's leave her to her work."

_He's quite cool-headed. _Archer observed. _He didn't stay surprised for very long, even when it ripped through the protections on the floor._

_Wait. _Harry realized something. _If you can fire blades like this, then why didn't you let me use it against Quirrell back then? You don't need a bow._

_The bow adds power and range, and allowed for stealth. Think about it, Harry. _

Harry thought, and felt slightly foolish that he hadn't considered it before asking.

"Have a seat, Harry." Nicolas had led him out onto the porch of the cottage, where there was a bench and two rocking chairs.

Harry sat on the bench while Nicolas took one of the chairs, looking out over the countryside.

"So, what do you think about dueling, Harry?"

"Actually, Uncle Nic," Harry spoke with honesty, "It's good and fun to know, but I don't want to spend my whole life doing just that. I just want to be good enough to protect myself and my friends."

"Good, good... I'd be worried if you were one of those who enjoyed it a little too much, if you know what I mean."

"You mean like a berserker?"

Nicolas nodded, rocking in his chair slightly. "Have you thought about your style?"

Harry took a moment to confer with Archer, while the man waiting patiently.

"I'm not sure about the spells I want to use, but I want to incorporate Transfiguration into it."

"That's a good idea, seeing as most of your peers will be using spells only. Living transfiguration? They _are_ good at distracting as well as attacking." Nicolas pointed out.

Harry shook his head. "No. I want to use blades."

_I appreciate your wish to emulate me, but perhaps you should try something else? _Archer asked.

"No, Archer," Harry spoke out loud, "I'm serious about using blades."

"If your opponent fails to defend properly, you may end up killing him." Nicolas said gravely. He had heard from Harry how he was forced to take a life, and knew how he felt about it.

"Then I'll find a way that doesn't kill," said Harry stubbornly. "The blades can be a distraction for the real attacks. And if I do have to kill..." The boy trailed off, biting his lip as he looked away, out at the fields. "If I have no choice, then I'll do so."

"If that is what you want."

Perenelle's voice called out from inside the house. "Alright, boys! I'm done here. Hope you haven't killed each other yet!"

"No we haven't, dear!" Nicolas called back, and got to his feet. "Come on, Harry. Let's start with a bit of hex dodging to see your skills. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

"Yeah right, old man. We'll see about that." Harry retorted, following him back into the house.

As the days passed, Harry continued to work hard on magic, magecraft, and Alchemy. He received letters from his friends, including a very long one from Hermione which described her increasing disillusionment with the bigoted system and her ardent wish to be there with him (Harry didn't understand why Archer and the Flamels found that description funny), and wrote replies to each of them, even to Draco, who had event ideas for the Student Council the next year and wanted to tell Harry about them (Harry wasn't shy about pointing out why some of them could not be implemented), still keeping his location vague.

Without relying on Reinforcement or Archer's help in optimizing his movement, Harry's dueling style slowly began to emerge (with Nicolas going easy on him); it was actually two separate styles that Harry melded together for what the Flamels said would be a very effective way of fighting. One had him launching a furious offensive meant to incapacitate his opponent quickly, while the other involved him being a countering dueler, both of which utilized his high agility and a great deal of distractions, which he used to dodge and set up his attacks respectively. Nicolas was particularly helpful in training the latter, as he would give feedback to Harry on the tricks the boy tried in order to get an opening.

However, his magecraft had finally hit a plateau, apart from shaving minuscule amounts of time from his Tracing. His Reinforcement had reached the level where he could jump over the cottage in a single leap, shatter granite blocks with his fists, and get away from a razor cut with nothing but a superficial scratch, but it appeared that that was the highest limit he could reach. As for his bounded fields, Harry managed to grasp adding the basic effects of detection, diversion, and suppression to his fields, which were the only ones the book on bounded fields gave instructions on, but that was it. It was too risky to attempt combining bounded fields with the runes the Flamels taught him, and Archer added his voice to the ban they put on Harry, so he had no choice but to give in. Still, the desire to learn more forms of magecraft continued to grow in him as he polished his few skills further and read about the basic elemental spells in the books.

At least he had more luck with Alchemy. He could finally draw a perfect circle nine times out of ten, and out of those nine successes, seven of the fully completed arrays were good enough to earn Nicolas's approval to use. Once again, Harry's Structural Analysis proved to be useful, as his ability to form a clear image of his desired result enabled him to perform transmutation with a skill that Nicolas himself admitted would be jealous of five centuries ago.

Once every few days, Harry would try to combine all three fields together with his martial arts to create an actual combat style like Nicolas and Archer both advised him to. It wasn't easy, but he could feel the pieces starting to fall together as he experimented. Both Archer and Nicolas told him it would take years before he finally got something that would be truly effective, and Harry agreed and continued to persevere. When Voldemort returned (not IF), Harry intended to be ready.

When he was physically tired, Harry would study more about magic, learning in preparation for next year's syllabus. He knew Hermione would do the same, but unlike his friend, he had two accomplished magic users willing to tutor him, and teach him potion brewing tricks and other useful charms. The Flamels were pleased to expand their own knowledge with the extra perspective of magecraft, and gratefully repaid that debt by sharing a little of what they knew, even if he couldn't use some of them yet. Harry went through three whole notebooks just recording down what they had, with the promise not to share too much as some of the secrets they passed on to him were important to their own defenses. Harry also started to train in Occlumency; while he could simply run prana through his circuits to break a Legilimency probe, having another line of defense would be useful.

Harry also found himself slowly opening up to the Flamels, initially starting with casual questions and answers during the course of his training, then progressing to talks over meals, until he was chatting comfortably with them like he had known them for a year instead of less than a month. For people who lived as long as them, they were quite progressive in their thinking, and agreed with Harry about how bad the British Wizarding society had become. That topic occupied the dinner table for nearly an entire week.

Perenelle also made sure to drag him and her husband out of the house from time to time to visit places around France, like the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, even zoos and aquariums, playing the role of a family on tour with Harry's hair color hidden under a glamour. Harry was a bit awkward the first few times, but he eventually managed to relax (with Archer's help) and actually started to enjoy himself a little. Some of the art pieces were eye-catching enough that he tried to duplicate those he liked with alchemy afterwards, and occasionally he would try and modify things a little. It was on one of these excursions that he met his first Veela; he was having a lunch at a bistro with the Flamels at that time.

"Harry. Harry!"

Harry started and looked up at a smiling Nicolas and Perenelle, the latter putting away her wand; he could sense a bounded field that covered them, one that he recognized as a privacy ward. "What, Unc- I mean, Dad?" He almost forgot that they were acting as a family.

"You were staring quite fixedly at the family over there. Finally starting to notice the fairer sex?" Nicolas teased, grinning.

"What? No, I don't think I hit puberty yet. Voice hasn't broken, see?" Harry purposely spoke in a high-pitched voice.

_It's rather odd that you know what puberty entails when you haven't experienced it yourself. _Archer commented.

_I read about it, Archer. Supposedly I'll know that I've hit puberty when I start stripping girls in my mind. _

Archer actually sniggered, and it went on for quite some time.

"Archer say something?" Nicolas whispered.

Harry repeated what he said to the spirit, and the Flamels struggled to contain their laughter. Eventually Perenelle recovered enough to talk, and explain why Harry had been so preoccupied.

"Have you heard of Veela, Harry?" She asked, still smiling.

"No." Harry shook his head. "What are they?"

"They are like Sirens in Greek mythology. Very beautiful, and magically seductive."

Harry quickly took another look at the family, a couple with two daughters, but this time he checked his magic circuits. There was no change in them, but he could feel an odd desire to keep gazing upon their beautiful features. Archer also agreed that whatever seduction effect that was present, was not due to an influence on Harry's magic circuits, and the boy let the Flamels know.

"Interesting." Nicolas rubbed his chin. "So the Veela allure is not due to a direct magical effect on its targets like most believe, but on themselves instead?"

"Don't get sidetracked, Nick." Perenelle scolded, and turned back to Harry. "As Nick already mentioned, Veela put out an aura which is known as the allure. It attracts men towards them, and usually it will lure some of them into doing stupid things in order to impress the Veela."

Harry scanned the crowd. "They certainly do attract attention, but I don't see anyone pulling a stunt to impress them."

"That is because the allure put off by the mother and the older daughter aren't that strong, as they aren't full-blooded Veela."

Harry blinked. "So you can tell whether they are pure Veela or a half-Veela based on the strength of the allure?"

"Yes. Also, the Veela blood adds a musical quality to the speaker's voice, exactly like the Greek Sirens. In fact, it gives them a talent for any form of magic that involves entrancing others."

Harry frowned. He didn't like the fact that there was a race of beings who could entrance men just by being near them, as he hated being manipulated.

"Harry," Nicolas spoke seriously, "Veelas have been known to be captured to be the playthings of men because of how beautiful they tend to be. They do not put out the allure because they want to."

Harry blinked, and thought about it a little. Eventually he nodded understandingly.

"Tell him about the other side of Veela, dear."

"Ah yes, their feral side." Perenelle's smile fell away to be replaced by a look of warning. "When full-blooded Veela get angry - and they tend to have quite the short temper - it causes them to transform."

"Transform?"

"It is said that Veela are creatures of fire and air. When they get angry, their heads shift into something akin to a bird of prey, and wings will grow from their shoulders, allowing them to fly like birds do. They also manifest the ability to fling balls of fire from their hands."

"Veelas are widely known to be fiery lovers, literally!" Nicolas injected.

Perenelle smacked her husband on the arm to make him behave. "But as most Veela tend to keep to themselves, it is rare to actually witness an angry one. In fact, half-Veela rarely have their mothers' ability to transform."

"Really." Harry turned to take another look.

The younger girl, who looked to be about five and already looking like a little angel, saw him looking and waved cheerfully. Harry blinked, then quickly looked away. But it was too late, as he overheard the girl's parents talking to her in French and her replying back about him. He grimaced, knowing his face was red as Nicolas and Perenelle wore wide smiles on their faces while they waved over at the family.

"Shall we see how Harry handles a Veela allure up close, dear?" Nicolas asked, and the couple stood up.

"I hate you, Nick." Harry muttered, but let himself be led over to the empty table near the family.

_Don't complain, Harry. It's good to meet new faces once in a while. _Archer chided.

"I hate you too, Archer."

"_**Excuse us, but would I be correct in assuming that you have Veela blood?**_" Perenelle spoke directly to the mother in her native tongue.

"_**Why, yes. I take it your son was affected?**_" The woman replied.

Harry squirmed as Nicolas ruffled his hair. "_**He's actually a nephew, but yes, he was affected.**_"

Finally getting out from under Nicolas's hand, Harry took a good look at the family. He forced himself to focus on the father first, reasoning that if he could do so, then he would have enough willpower to resist the allure.

The man was rather short and plump, and hardly looked like the sort of person someone as beautiful as his wife would go for. But as Harry scrutinized that pleasantly smiling expression with its pointed black beard, he realized that the man's eyes bore an alertness that contrasted with the dreamy look on the surrounding crowd even when they focused on his spouse. As for his wife, she certainly stood out; where her husband was short and normal-looking, she was tall and beautiful, standing out with her blond hair her daughters inherited. Harry struggled to resist the temptation to stare at her, and finally pulled his eyes away.

Nicolas nudged him. "_**Introduce yourself.**_"

Harry scowled up at the Alchemist, before putting a smile and nodding to the family. "_**Hello, my name... is Harry Fleming. Please excuse... my poor French.**_" He introduced himself haltingly, using the false surname they were going under.

"_**He's been only learning for three weeks,**_" said Perenelle, "_**You should have heard some of the mistakes he made at first.**_"

The adults chuckled and started introducing themselves to each other, while Harry focused on the couple's daughters. Both of them had long, flowing hair that was similar to those of models appearing in the hair care advertisements Harry had seen on TV, but only the elder one, who Archer judged to be around three years older than Harry, had the allure, while the younger was just cherubic in looks. Now that Harry was aware of what to look for, he could tell that hers was weaker compared to her mother's.

_So it doesn't develop until later... _Harry mused, smiling at the younger girl, who gave a wide grin in return.

"_**See something you like?**_" The elder girl said haughtily, prompting her mother to scold "_**Fleur!**_".

"_**She's Fleur!**_" Her sister piped up. "_**And I'm Gabrielle. Gabrielle Delacour.**_"

"_**Nice to meet you.**_" Harry said to the younger girl.

"_**But for three weeks, his French is rather good.**_" The father, Jean Delacour, said, nodding with a smile. "_**You're English, aren't you? It's not much, but you do have the accent.**_"

Harry nodded.

"_**And he's doing a good job of resisting the allure.**_" The mother, who Harry introduced herself as Apolline Delacour, was smiling widely. "_**It's a trait that all Veela look for.**_"

_So that's the reason why she's with her husband... Because he can resist her allure. _Archer observed.

_You're saying that he loves her not because of the allure, but because he actually cares for her? _Harry blinked. _That's... nice, I think?_

"_**Have you met Harry Potter?**_" Gabrielle suddenly asked him. "_**You have the same name as him.**_"

Fleur groaned. "_**Not this again...**_"

Harry didn't like the glint in Nicolas's eye, but he was unable to do a thing to stop the man from speaking. "_**Of course Harry knows Harry Potter. In fact, he knows him very well.**_"

"_**Really?**_" Gabrielle stared at Harry in awe.

"Did I mention that I hate you?" Harry spoke to Nicolas flatly, trying to ignore Archer's amusement.

"_**Could you help me ask him for an autograph?**_"

"_**Now, now, Gabrielle,**_" Her mother chided, "_**Don't bother the young man that way. It's not nice.**_"

The young girl grumbled, but didn't press any further. The adults talked among themselves, while Harry tried to converse with the aloof Fleur, doing his best to endure her condescending attitude. From the short replies she gave, he learned that she attended the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, which was located in Southern France, and was fifteen years old. He also got the clear impression that she looked down on nearly everything British, especially him for his poor French. In contrast, her sister was five, and extremely open and friendly in personality, and while a bit too cheery for Harry's taste, he chatted with her just to get over the rising urge to snap back at Fleur for the older girl's snootiness. Archer noted that Fleur seemed to have a soft spot for her sister, and Harry made use of that to get Fleur to talk to him more. He also kept one ear on the adults' conversation, but missed out on most of what was being said due to the speed of their talking.

"_**Mama, can we leave? I want to see the shops.**_"

"_**Of course, dear.**_" Apolline looked at the Flamels. "_**It was nice talking to you two, Mr and Mrs Fleming.**_"

"_**If those are your real names.**_" Jean added. "_**Odd that your nephew has the same surname you do.**_" A tensing in his right arm caught the attention of Harry and Archer; the man was gripping a wand, ready to attack if necessary.

Nicolas and Perenelle didn't look surprised to be found out, and actually continued to remain relaxed. "_**I expected no less of the head of the French Aurors, Mr Delacour. But I assure you, we mean no harm to you or Harry.**_" Nicolas said, smiling.

"_**Then why not reveal your true identities?**_" The Frenchman challenged.

"_**Because Harry here insisted on it.**_" said Nicolas, slightly flippant.

Harry shot another glare at Nicolas, but then he noticed Jean and Apolline staring closely at him. It was Jean who realized it first, and Harry could tell by the slight widening of the man's eyes that he had trained himself to look for. His wife took a few seconds longer, but eventually cottoned on to Harry's real identity as well.

"_**I see.**_" Jean turned to the Flamels."_**In that case, who might the two of you be?**_"

"_**Friends of the family. That's all you need to know.**_" This time, there was a slight edge to Nicolas's voice that no one missed, and Apolline's arm tensed as well.

Jean nodded and turned to Harry, who met his eyes determinedly. There was no Legilimency probe, but the man eventually nodded once more and raised his hand to call for the check. "_**I think we better be going now. I hope you'll enjoy what France has to offer, Harry.**_"

"_**I already am, sir.**_" Harry replied, smiling slightly.

The Delacours paid for their meal and left, with Gabrielle waving happily. Nicolas turned to look at Harry while Perenelle left to visit the washroom.

"So what did you make of them?" inquired the man.

"Veelas? Or the family?"

"Veelas, though I wouldn't mind hearing your thoughts on the latter as well."

"Really good-looking, but I can resist the allure. As for the family, I'm guessing they are quite important in France?" Harry asked, and received a nod. "The father is easygoing, but he's got a good sense for things, which means he's got experience, while the mother might not be as good, but she was willing to challenge you if you posed a threat to her children, despite both of them knowing that you outclassed them."

Nicolas smiled, clear approval on his features. "Good eye. And just to warn you, the allure will be much harder to resist when you hit puberty, and what you experienced was with them toning it down."

Harry grimaced, hearing Archer comment about having to suffer through Harry's hormones in future.

* * *

"Have you thought what you'd like to receive for your birthday, Harry?"

The question took Harry by surprise just as he was performing transmutation on a small block of marble, and the horn of the unicorn he was shaping snapped off. Frowning at it, he pushed the failed project and the paper-printed alchemic array under it aside and turned to look at Perenelle.

"My birthday? Well, not really." He said slowly, thinking about Hermione's letter to him discussing the possibility of a belated birthday party at Neville's after he returned from France.

"Is there anything you'd like?"

"Well..." Harry considered the idea. "Something useful and long-lasting, for one."

"Useful..." Perenelle crossed her arms thoughtfully, one finger tapping at her elbow. "I'm sure Nicolas and I can make something that will last long, but..." She trailed off into a series of murmurs that was too soft for Harry to hear.

"Did I hear somebody mention birthdays?" Her husband inquired as he entered the workroom. "I celebrate mine by putting out a photo of me at some random location with a birthday cake, then watch as those idiots waste their time searching for me."

"Oh, hush. Harry's only twelve years old, and he doesn't have people after him like you do."

"Yes he does." "Yes I do." The two males said together.

Perenelle frowned. "I had forgotten about that." She admitted. "But I don't particularly approve of arming a child like yourself."

_Not all of us have the chance to experience a normal childhood. Tell her that, Harry. _

Harry repeated what Archer said, and added his agreement to that statement. "I don't mind a weapon, but I won't be able to carry it around all the time."

"Then just add some enchantments so you can!" Nicolas clapped him on the shoulder. "Necessity is the mother of invention, remember? If you don't have something that works, then build something that does!"

"Yes... yes, I think I know just the gift. Come, Nicolas." Perenelle swept out of the room, and her husband followed with a cheeky wave to Harry.

_Wonder what they'll create, Archer. _Harry commented as he dragged a different alchemical array over and placed the marble unicorn- no, horse on it. _Some kind of hidden blade?_

_I doubt so. It would look very bad on you if someone realized you were actually carrying around something that is clearly meant to be used as a weapon._

_True. _Harry placed his hands on the sides on the array, and transmuted the horse back into its original cubic form. _Collapsible staff, or a pair of tonfas, maybe?_

_Do you even know how to use those? _

_Nope. _Harry switched the array out for the first one. _To be honest, I'd prefer to have magic circuits of my own, but it's not something they can- _He stopped. Why had he not realized this before? If he didn't have his own magic circuit, he just had to create one of his own.

_Harry, no. I know what you're thinking. Don't do it. _Archer warned.

The boy's eyes narrowed. _You knew, _he accused, _You knew that it's possible. Why didn't you tell me?_

_Because it's extremely dangerous, and even if you succeed, it will hurt. A lot. The risks are too high._

Harry shook his head. _Then help me. _He thought fiercely. _I'm going through with it, even if you refuse. You can at least keep me from doing it wrongly!_

Archer was silent for a long while, and when he finally spoke, his tone was deeply disapproving. _Are you that desperate to kill yourself?_

_You told me yourself that a magus accepts death, and walks with it! _Harry retorted, _Well then, this is the path I'm choosing for myself!_

For the next two hours, they argued back and forth over the matter, but this time, Harry was just as stubborn as Archer was, and refused to give up the idea. Even when Archer questioned his reasoning behind wanting to have his own form of magecraft, Harry did not back down; he was set on taking this course. His Alchemy project lay forgotten on the desk as the two of them verbally sparred in silence, but in the end, it was Archer who finally gave in.

_Fine, but remember that I warned you. _The spirit said grudgingly.

_I'm ready for it. _Harry knew he was; to him, his determination was steel-solid, and he was prepared to go through with it.

The plan was postponed for the time being as Harry went to have dinner, then another two hours as he finished making the unicorn while waiting for the food to digest (Archer warned that the process might make him physically ill). After bidding the Flamels goodnight, Harry climbed into bed and covered himself with the blanket, where he listened to Archer explain how the process worked.

_Alright, Archer. I'm ready. And before you ask, _Harry interrupted the spirit, _I'm not going to change my mind. So let's go through with this._

In his world of unlimited blades, Archer closed his eyes, and sighed. When he opened it, they were filled with the same determination Harry had. _As you command, Harry._

Harry didn't know why Archer spoke in such a manner, but he guessed it was probably due to the spirit having been summoned in the role of a Servant before they first met.

"Synchro. Start." Falling into the breathing pattern he always used during his practice, Harry closed his eyes and did his best to tune everything out, focusing only on what was inside him. "_Trace... on._" He bit off the final word, clamping his teeth down on a bunched fold of the blanket.

Archer's explanation was that in order to create a magic circuit in his own body, Harry first had to unify his entire body and every nerve within it. Normally, when he practiced his magecraft, it only required his mental trigger to activate the circuits. But this time it was different. He would not be working with any of the twenty-seven circuits at all. This was a path he chose for himself, and it was a path that only he could walk. Archer could only assist by sending a signal at regular intervals to help Harry judge whether he had reached the proper mindset, and once Harry was fully immersed in himself, he would be on his own.

_I can feel my lungs expanding and contracting as they draw breath... the oxygen... diffuses into my blood... it goes to my heart... which beats... follow the blood as it pumps around my body... my brain... the nerves extending out from there... I can't feel Archer anymore..._

Archer's explanation about creating an artificial magic circuit was that it was the wrong way he had come up with when he had first started learning magecraft. His description of it was that he inserted an imaginary iron rod, red hot from the energy flowing through it, into his spine, and maintained that while he practiced his magecraft. And because of the self-hypnosis he put himself through in order to connect to his od, he felt the sensation of the hot iron rod in his spine clearly. The pain raised the inherent risk of the technique, as it affected the concentration of the user, and if the user failed to make the connection properly... his body would break down. It was a foolish idea, and one that Harry insisted on trying until Archer gave in, if only to let his host experience the effects for himself, and give up on it afterwards.

Except Harry had other ideas, ones that he did not divulge. Archer had done that technique because he initially thought that he had no magic circuits of his own; even if the ones in Harry's body weren't originally his own, he had them. He knew what they were like. He also analyzed the ones in Nicolas's and Perenelle's bodies. And using those three as examples... He had an image of how a basic magic circuit should be like. One that he intended to eventually customize to fit his own magecraft.

Structural Analysis gave him the blueprints. Biology provided the rough foundation and materials. Alchemy... combined with his will and power, would be the tools.

Still maintaining the breathing, Harry delicately followed one of the nerves down, until he grasped it in its entirety. It was a sensory nerve, one of those that conveyed the sensation from a small spot on his lower back. This was what he would use for his first try. Harry focused his attention on that single, narrow nerve, pushing the rest of his body out of his awareness, and brought his energy into play.

"NNGH! GRRRGHH!"

The pain was like lightning lancing through his existence, and Harry nearly lost control of his own breathing. _Breathe! Remember the pattern! You've did it before! _

Slowly, so slowly it felt like an eternity to Harry, the nerve began to change, altering to meet the need Harry impressed on it. Its original function was to send signals one way, from receptors under the skin to the brain. The new function would be to connect to his magical core, his soul, and channel his prana out from it to perform thaumaturgy. Unlike Archer's, Harry intended his to be permanent; Archer used the image of a hot iron rod connecting to his nerves, but Harry's image was comparable to an electrical cable, laid down properly.

"GGHHH!"

_Ten percent... _Harry continued to divide his attention between remaining in the state of self-awareness and remodeling the nerve. _Attaching support systems..._

"RRRRR!"

_Twenty percent... _The conversion progressed in spurts as it passed the Nodes of Ranvier, and each jump sent a spike of pain shooting back into Harry's brain. _Recalibrating function..._

"RRGGGHH!"

_Thirty-five percent... _Was that the cell nucleus? Harry didn't have time to examine it closely, as it was absorbed and converted into the new makeup. _Altering composition..._

"GGHKKK! HKKK!"

_Forty-five percent... _Harry felt like his brain was on fire as the progress crossed to the next neuron, but he couldn't stop now. Stopping halfway would kill him. He WOULD NOT FAIL! _Initiating link..._

"HKK! HKKKK!"

_Sixty percent... _He was choking... the pain had affected his breathing. Harry slowed down on construction and focused more on returning to the pattern. _Strengthening connections... _

"HHHGH! GGGHHH!"

_Seventy-five percent... _There was no mistake; it was progressing faster, as Harry mastered the steps and the pain involved in each. _Maximizing capabilities..._

"GGRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!"

_Ninety-five percent... _Just a bit more, Harry told himself, just a bit more! _Reinforcing the entirety..._

Complete.

...

_HARRY! HARRY, ANSWER ME!_ Archer's roar jerked Harry out of the cloud of darkness he had been sinking in.

"Whuh?" He slurred. Why did his entire body hurt? And what was that funny feeling in his mouth?

_WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU THINKING? _

"A-Archaaa?" Harry wondered why the spirit was shouting so loudly.

"Harry... Harry, how are you feeling?"

It took a while for Harry to place the voice he heard. "N'cle Nic?" He said, trying to get a clearer look at the person currently supporting him.

"What happened? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Harry blinked. "Uhhh... two?"

The man let out a sigh of relief. "Looks like you're alert."

Harry felt himself being lifted up and put down on a bed. Had he rolled off while he was making the magic circuit? Nicolas was currently waving a wand over his body, performing diagnostic spells, but Harry didn't feel up to moving, or doing anything else besides just lying there. He was content to just lie there and let his body twitch as his motor nerves fired by themselves randomly.

_What did you do, Harry? That was NOT the technique I taught you. _Archer demanded.

Harry winced. _Could you tone it down a bit... my entire body hurts._

_Not until you tell just what it was you did! You nearly ended up killing yourself! If not from lack of oxygen, it was your heart beating hard enough to burst!_

_I made a magic circuit from one of my nerves. _Harry explained.

_I'm asking what sort of technique you used! _shouted Archer.

"Hmmm." Nicolas finally put away his wand and sat next to Harry, the motion shifting the bed and alerting its passenger. "I assume that Archer is currently scolding you, and frankly, I feel like doing the same."

"Hm?" Harry's throat didn't seem to be working well enough to form words, so he just grunted.

"Judging by the look on your face, you have no idea what you just went through." Nicolas sighed. "I'll tell you first, and then you can explain yourself later."

Harry listened as Nicolas talked. Apparently, shortly after Harry went to bed, strangled screaming came from his bedroom, prompting the Flamels to come and check. They found him biting hard on his blanket, and making enough noise to wake the dead as he trashed around on the floor. No matter what they did, they could not stop his seizures, and it went on for hours.

_That explains why my throat feels like it's been ripped to pieces. _Harry thought.

_I can't believe you can be this nonchalant. _Archer said, slight disgust in his tone.

_I don't know, it doesn't seem that important at the moment._

"I never expected you to end up injuring yourself when all you did was to go off to bed. As for your injuries," continued Nicolas, "Apart from moderate vocal cord stress, a concussion from hitting your head on the bedside table repeatedly as you thrashed around, both of which can be healed up easily, your entire body shows signs of the Cruciatus curse. Care to explain that?"

"Nicolas, how is he? I brought the Elixir." Harry heard Perenelle's voice call out.

"He's awake and aware, but he can't speak yet."

Harry turned his head to the side to look at Perenelle, and was shocked to see that it was already dawn.

_You've been out for that long, and your body became so hot that the Flamels had to conjure ice around you to prevent you from burning out. _Archer informed him.

Before Harry could reply, he felt something slip into his mouth, and a cool liquid dripped from it, landing on his tongue. The sensation spread throughout his body, and where it passed through, the aches and pains vanished.

"That should do it. Try talking."

Harry opened his mouth. "Mm... ey... ee... ai... oh... you... was... that the Elixir of Life?" He looked at the small dropper in Nicolas's hand.

The Alchemist nodded. "So what happened?"

Harry closed his eyes and looked for the result of his suffering... and found it. In his mind, green light flashed, preceded by a woman's scream. And a single magic circuit sprung to life, flushed with new power.

Opening his eyes, he looked back at the Flamels. "I made my own magic circuit."

* * *

I'm sure one of the first things any Nasu-fan will tell me is that there is no way for Harry to make permanent magic circuits, as the number of magic circuits, and I quote from Type-Moon wiki, in one's body is determined at birth and cannot increase or decrease naturally. Looking at that statement, I'll just point out the word 'naturally'. Harry MADE his magic circuit, that's not natural, that's artificial. And because he used Flamel's Alchemy in the process, it's permanent unlike Shirou's method. The question now is just how powerful his is.

So, this chapter is an info-dump on how I perceive magecraft and wizarding magic being related, as well as a slight examination of Alchemy in HP's world. Well, it's obvious that I drew some inspiration from FMA, but hey, alchemy in both cases is about transmutation, so of course there'll be some overlap.

As usual, post your reviews!


	14. Second Curse

**First, to one of the two reviewers under 'Guest': Dueler and duelist, it's like po-tay-to and po-tah-to. The dictionary meaning of both means the same: a person who fights in a duel. Also, in the first book of canon, Quirrell performed an Incarcerous spell on Harry with a snap of his fingers. He did not use a wand, make any wand movements, or say an incantation. That's wandless magic, CANON version (Not all the super-powered stuff you see in other fanfics). As for how swords can blast away the ground, have you ever tried driving a spike into something like a block of ice? The penetrating impact will crack the object, and subsequent ones will break chips off, and knock them away. As for the last question about UBW manifestation, I don't want to make people look forward to stuff like that by telling them if it will happen or not, which is why I won't answer. Wait and see.**

**Next, to the other Guest reviewer: Are you REALLY sure Bellatrix wouldn't interfere in a duel if Voldemort ordered her to do so? And honestly, even in canon, the Trio survived going up against Dolohov and Rowle because Hermione sneak-attacked the former. As for whether Harry needs dueling, I'd say yes. Think of it as a cover, a way to lull his opponent into a false sense of security before he actually brings out the Magus Killer style. The remaining questions, just read on.**

**To TJG: Harry HAD the Horcrux. It's gone now. But the time he spent with it left him with the Parseltongue ability.**

* * *

"Damn it!" Harry cursed, slamming his hands down on the table, an open book between them. "Why doesn't it WORK?"

"Take a break already, Harry!" Nicolas called from the next room. "You've been at it for the past two days!"

_He's right, Harry. You'll end up harming yourself if you force yourself to continue at this rate. _Archer added.

"RRRGH!" The boy stood up and stormed out of the house, intending on taking out his stress through physical training.

The reason why Harry was so frustrated was because the magic circuit he had created through the modification of one of his own nerves could not perform the magecraft he was hoping it would. He could Reinforce, Analyze, Trace, and put up bounded fields with it, but that was all. He could not perform any of the elemental spells described by the book he was focused on earlier, and this unexpected setback irritated him greatly. According to one of the other magecraft books, magic circuits, when powered by running prana through them, would connect the magus to the system of Thaumaturgic Theory, allowing him to actualize its rules, and manifest the effects of thaumaturgy in the world.

_WHY? _Harry struck the wooden dummy with a powerful straight, causing it to rock back and forth. _WHY DOESN'T IT WORK?_

Archer was silent. Both boy and spirit knew that the hero was not the person who could provide answers for a problem of this sort.

Harry continued to hit the dummy with his fists over and over, repeating the question in his mind with every blow. When his knuckles started to bleed, Harry switched to using his legs, reinforcing the bones so they wouldn't break with the force he was throwing behind them.

Just as the burning in his legs got too much for him to bear, Harry threw one final kick, putting everything he had into it with a scream, "RRAAAAAH!"

The wood splintered where his leg landed, and with a horrible cracking sound, the trunk section of the dummy was divided by a jagged tear spanning half its width. Panting, Harry let himself fall back flat onto the soft grass, and looked up at the gray sky while his shins and hands throbbed painfully.

He felt Archer checking on his body's condition. _You're going to have severe bruises tomorrow, _reported the spirit.

Harry ignored it, continuing to watch the cloud cover high above him.

It was frustrating. All that studying, all that suffering... and he had nothing to show for it. Even now, despite it being highly improbable, Harry could feel that single spot of numbness in his back. It was a reminder of what he had sacrificed. A useless sacrifice.

Archer didn't say anything else, but Harry knew that the spirit felt his emotions, and had responded likewise.

It's not useless, that's what Archer wanted to say. But words not spoken aren't that convincing.

It was a subdued Harry that went back into the Flamel cottage, washed up, had his wounds healed, and ate the dinner cooked by Perenelle. He put away his books, all of them; the magic ones, the alchemy ones, and even the magecraft ones. Everything just seemed pointless.

He didn't look up when someone came into his room and sat down on the bed next to him.

Then Perenelle began to speak. She talked about her life after she married Nicolas, how they tried for children only to fail because their alchemy experiments left them sterile. Yet the couple did not give up, but focused their skills at trying to create artificial life in order to have Alchemy succeed where biology could not. Their attempts inadvertently led to the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, an item that allowed its user to transmute metals to gold, and create an elixir that healed all ailments and halted aging. But their main objective continued to remain unfulfilled. For all of the Stone's powers, it could not create a soul, the thing that gave the body the spark of life it truly required.

"But we still hope, Nicolas and I..." Perenelle said quietly, as Harry watched her (having looked up after she mentioned wanting children), "As long as we live, there is a chance that we may yet succeed."

"If..." Harry paused, trying to decide the words to use. "If you're trying to tell me not to give up, it's not really working."

"I'm not." Perenelle replied. "I know you're not the sort to abandon things so easily, Harry. What I'm saying is that even though you may fail, your efforts are not entirely useless. Our Stone came from a failure as well, and to us, it is also a gift of the time and resources we'll need to eventually achieve our wish. Think about it." With that, she got up and left the room.

Harry stared after her.

_She has a point. _Archer commented.

Grunting, Harry crawled under the covers and went to sleep. Inside him, the spirit knew that his host would eventually accept the morale of the story. For all of Harry's maturity, there were still times when his true age showed in his thinking.

And Archer turned out to be correct. Harry's personality was soon back to how it was before the setback, focusing on his training with a rugged intensity that made the Flamels smile approvingly. However, he did not touch his magecraft books, only focusing on his wand magic and Alchemy, as well as his fighting. And he really did focus on his fighting.

Nicolas and Harry circled each other in the training room, both holding their wands in their right hands while carefully observing the other. It was Harry that made the first move; the left hand he was holding up in front of his body dipped down slightly, and he jabbed his wand, firing off a Stinging Hex at the man. As he had expected, Nicolas dodged with a slight shift of his body, but Harry had followed up with a flurry of jabs, sending more spells in its wake.

Between one dodge and the next, Nicolas suddenly fired back a spell of his own. Harry didn't recognize the spell, but he slapped it away from his body, using a dueling technique where he intercepted the magic's flight with the tip of his wand so he could push it away. He ducked under the next one and shot off another hex, only to have Nicolas return fire just as fiercely.

He wasn't expecting the sudden change in tactics, but his body responded accordingly; when Nicolas suddenly stopped dodging and started blocking, eliminating three to four spells at a time with a single swish of his wand, he recognized a possible opening and rushed in physically. Nicolas drew back his wand, and threw out a left punch in an attempt to halt Harry's advance, but Harry didn't flinch, instead bending his knees so the blow went over his head. Another hex came towards him, but his right hand flashed up and deflected it into the extended arm, causing Nicolas to grimace.

Harry reached up and grabbed the man's wrist... then he released it just as Nicolas started to pull back, and dropped down onto one knee while his other leg lashed out, smacking the side of Nicolas's knee. The sudden destabilization caused Nicolas's next spell to go wildly off course, and Harry gleefully fired another Stinging Hex at close range.

Only to miss as his body suddenly went flying back like something had pulled onto him from behind. In spite of that, Harry didn't lose his cool, but blocked another two more spells that Nicolas sent his way while being dragged backwards. He turned his landing into a roll, and fired back, but the man was already on the move once more. Harry did the same, scrambling to his feet and heading for the nearby table and chair.

The difficulty level had now increased; since Harry had nearly managed to score a clean hit, Nicolas began to use more varied spells. Harry was firing on the run, but he had to duck and jump to avoid the Lashing and Bludgeoning Hexes that were being sent his way. When he reached the four-legged chair, he grabbed it by one leg and used the seat as a shield, deflecting most of the force while he focused on accuracy.

Nicolas twirled and slashed, sending a wide-range Bludgeoner, too much for Harry to deflect or dodge. He considered casting a Protego spell, but he had yet to master it enough to cast it as needed. The idea he came up with was risky, but he decided he had no choice but to go through with it; planting the chair on the ground, Harry hopped onto it and kicked off, using the added height to go over the spell instead, and retaliated with hexes of his own while in midair while the chair received the brunt of it.

Red light flashed, and everything went dark. When Harry came to, it was to see Flamel's wand pointed in his face.

"Bang, you lose. Again." The man told him cheerfully. "You've got to be careful of trying midair stunts. You can't dodge properly."

"I'll remember not to next time."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't." Nicolas told him seriously. "There are spells that allow one to alter his motion in midair, and if I hadn't encountered that like... seventy times or so, I might have let my guard down."

"Yeah, yeah, rub in your experience." Harry grumbled, but he accepted the offered hand and let Nicolas pull him up. "You've got to teach me how to block Banishers." Harry had a bit of aversion to that spell after what Quirrell put him through.

The man nodded. "Still, you had me fooled at the start. I thought you were actually going to try and throw me, never expected you to kick my knee instead. And your accuracy is quite good too. I noticed you were timing some of them with my wand movements to force me to cancel my attacks just to block." Nicolas gave Harry a knowing look. "Of course, had you Reinforced yourself, my wrist bone might have been cracked, and my knee completely shattered."

"And you'd be using Transfiguration and other heavy-duty spells to blast me. No, thank you." quipped Harry.

Nicolas laughed, and slapped Harry on the back. "Come on, let's go wash up. You've been at this for nearly two hours already. I'm sure Archer can tell you more about your movements as we go."

Archer's feedback was simple; the spirit's advice was given with the intention of optimizing Harry's movements, as well as eliminating the tells in his body motions. As Harry rinsed off the sweat he worked up, his mind ran through the memories of that duel, trying to imagine his body moving in the corrected motions.

He still had a long way to go, but as Nicolas and Archer told him, his body needed time to get used to the movements, as well as grow into its full physical ability.

The incoming letters from his friends all continued to speak of the things they were doing over the summer vacation, but now they sounded strangely appealing to Harry even as he read through them, and a single seed of desire started to grow inside him. Each night, he would glance at the calendar, confirming the number of days that remained before it was time for him to return. If the Flamels or Archer noticed that he occasionally acted distant, they didn't mention it.

When Harry woke up on the thirty-first of July, his first thought wasn't about it being his birthday. In fact, he completely forgot about it, and it was only when the Flamels took him out for dinner at a restaurant and surprised him with a birthday cake, did he finally remember. Embarrassed, he blew out the twelve candles and carelessly wished for a way to make his magecraft work.

Their present to him was a silver-colored wristwatch, and Harry instantly analyzed it before he even took a good look at its design. In that moment, he realized that this watch was probably worth nearly a million pounds. Harry had analyzed hundreds of watches in his training of the skill, and while the mechanism in this one wasn't much different from the others, it had several enchantments woven into it, some to aid its function, others unknown to Harry. But he did not recognize one of the metals that made it up; he could detect some gold and silver in amounts that varied between the various parts of the clock mechanism, but more than eighty percent of the watch was made from a strange metal.

Harry opened his mouth to ask, but Nicolas anticipated his question and whispered, "Gold is not the only thing the Stone can make."

He shut his mouth and looked back down at the watch. The analog clock face displayed not just the time, but the day and month as well, and the band that went around his wrist was extremely wide, locked in with a clasp. Harry ran his fingers around the edge of the body, knowing that there were tiny alchemical arrays and runes etched there even though he could not feel them.

"Put it on, child. Let's see how it looks on you." Perenelle asked, then leaned in to whisper, "The special functions can wait until we're at home."

Harry did as he was told. It looked quite bulky on his wrist, but it didn't weigh as much as he expected for something entirely metal. But it fit perfectly.

Later, after they returned to the cottage, Harry was instructed to halfway depress the button that would release the clasp, and pull it along his arm. The action triggered minute alchemical transmutations, causing most of the band material to shift into his palm and morph into what was unmistakably a bow, tethered to the small remainder of the watch band so that even if he opened his fingers, it would not drop. Harry plucked the wire string a few times, and found the pressure on his fingers easy enough to bear.

"So what material is this?" He asked.

"We call it mithril."

Harry felt Archer's surprise at the name, and soon received the information. It was a name that was mentioned in fantasy fiction, and was sturdier and more suited to making enchanted items than any other metal. It also held several protections on it, putting it on the level of a family heirloom.

"There's less tension than I expected." Harry remarked.

"You can adjust it by turning the knob that adjusts the time."

Harry tried it out, and raised it to the near limits of his ability to draw. A smile appeared on his lips as he realized this could also double as a training tool for his arm strength.

"As for your arrows," Nicolas interjected, "I used runes to add spell effects that will compensate for them. Since it would be bad if you were found with an actual weapons, all those spells are non-lethal, but if you have actual arrows with you, you can use them with this bow as well."

Harry took a moment to try the special shots out; the controls were simple, two buttons on the handle, right beneath his left index and middle fingers, controlled the effects. The index finger button activated Stinging Hexes, the middle finger button was for Stunning Spells, and pressing both of them together rendered the effect similar to that of a Bludgeoner. When Harry drew back the string with the appropriate button pressed, an arrow of light would appear, waiting to be loosed.

After trying it out a little, Harry finally eased the string back into its original position, and looked at the Flamels with deep gratefulness in his expression.

"This is too much for me to accept... Uncle Nic, Aunt Nelle..." He said, and bit his lip.

They smiled back at him. "Just accept it, Harry. That's all we ask for." Perenelle told him.

Archer echoed that sentiment, and Harry finally nodded. Pushing the string towards the handle, he caused the bow to morph back into its compressed form.

"Thank you very much for this gift, Uncle Nic, Aunt Nelle, I'll treasure it always."

Later, in the privacy of his room, Harry examined the weapon in greater detail. He could feel Archer's approval of it as he turned it this way and that, and somewhere he knew that he would never find a better bow.

_Say Archer, is this better than your Noble Phantasm-firing one?_ He asked, firing off a Stinger (Stinging Hex was a mouthful) at the ceiling.

_It's at least the equal of it, _admitted Archer.

_Well, could we try firing one? _Harry tried not to sound too eager. _Test it out and all._

_... what exactly would you fire a Noble Phantasm at? They are not toys for you to play around with, you know._

_Please, Archer? _Harry begged. _Just once? As my birthday present?_

_I can't believe I'm doing this... _muttered the spirit. _But just this once. A Noble Phantasm should not be used lightly._

Harry opened the window and climbed out, slipping quietly through the garden until he reached the edge of the bounded field, taking care to avoid triggering the defenses. One of the things Nicolas had taught him was how to identify the defensive parts in a ward, and he simply relied on that knowledge to move around them. At the edge, he carefully erected a bounded field to make a small hole which he used to slip outside without being noticed, and continued on until he reached the field nearby.

"Here goes..." Harry opened up the bow. "Synchro, start. _Trace... on._"

The bow readily accepted his prana, and Harry had to limit the amount he was giving it to prevent it from radiating power. As it was, he was sure that anything he fired from it would go more than a kilometer.

_Say it together with me, Harry. _"_I am the bone of my sword._"

Harry felt something pulse within him as he spoke that single line, and it seemed like the four circuits he was using for this suddenly shifted into a higher gear. He felt Archer moving, and followed; the left hand raised the mithril bow up, and took aim at the faraway mountain peak, dark against the bluish-grey starry sky. His right hand gently pinched the wire string, preparing to pull it back.

"_Caladbolg._" intoned Harry's mouth.

The blueprint of the weapon flashed through Harry's mind, and he admired its make for a moment before it suddenly shifted, altered into a spiraling blade. A surge of prana went through the circuits, and the modified sword appeared on the bow as Harry drew back the string. Another flash, and it narrowed down into a narrower and more streamlined form, fitting to the bow much better.

His Reinforced eyes confirmed the target, a large boulder near the mountain's peak. His self, the arrow, the target, all three aligned together in one single breath... and he released the strand from his fingers.

The arrow burst into a brilliant blue missile, streaking towards its target. In its wake was a powerful whirling wind that whipped up the grass around Harry, and left a visible flight trail of air warped apart. He watched as the blue colored light shrank as it drew further away, gravity pulling it lower than he had intended for it to go... then it suddenly vanished, and an orange circle bloomed on the mountain. It looked like he had lit a giant stone lantern, with the single light standing out amidst the darkness.

Harry winced as a rumbling sound reached him. _What was that?_

_It just drilled through the rock and the rest of the mountain behind it. _

Harry couldn't resist whistling in amazement. _That's powerful._

_Alright, you've had your fun. Now go to sleep. _

Harry nodded. _Thanks for letting me do this, Archer._

He managed to slip back into the house without being discovered, but the next day, the Flamels wore grim looks as they worked around the house, and Harry found out that they thought the cottage had been discovered by their pursuers, and were currently considering the need to shift to a new location. Feeling embarrassed over the whole issue, he decided not to say anything, and silently endured Archer's radiating disapproval.

* * *

The hook pulling from behind his navel loosened, and Harry bent his knees to absorb the impact his feet made with the ground. Looking around to make sure no one saw his arrival, Harry ducked out of the space between the two houses he arrived in, and made his way over to the front door, where he pressed the bell and waited. He heard footsteps approaching, and the lock clicked.

"I'm back, Aunt-" Harry blinked. "Hermione?"

"I'm not that old." The girl informed him with a wide smile on her face, and enveloped him in one of her tight hugs.

"What're you doing here?" Harry gasped out.

"Waiting for you, of course. Come on in." She released him and beckoned for him to come into the house. "Nice watch you've got, but isn't it a bit big?"

Shaking his head at his friend's nonchalance at invading other people's privacy, Harry followed her in, and greeted his foster parents just before they left for work. They had wide smiles on their faces, asked whether he enjoyed himself, and gave him hugs of their own before they went.

"I can't believe you're here this early." Harry muttered as he dumped his bag in his room.

"You promised to show me what you learned," reminded Hermione.

Sighing, Harry unzipped his bag and took out one of his notebooks. Flipping through it, he extracted a sheet of paper with an alchemic array drawn onto it. Tossing the notebook onto the bed, he rummaged through the bag again, and took out a small block of wood. As Hermione watched, he put the block on top of the paper on the floor, placed his fingers on the edges of the circular array, and focused. There was a flash of blue light and a crackling the drowned out her gasp, and the block was now a sphere. Harry picked it up and tossed it over to Hermione, who caught it and began to examine it excitedly.

Then she froze. "Oh no! You did magic! They'll-"

"Alchemy doesn't trigger it." Harry told her, and she slumped in relief, before jerking up again.

"Why doesn't it trigger?"

Harry gave a quick explanation about how the transmutation was cut off from the world around it, similar to the ward muffling effect at the Flamels' that he wrote to her about. But before she could ask about trying it for herself, Harry told her about the harsh knowledge requirements and the risk involved in attempting it without proper preparation.

"But you'll teach me, right?" She demanded.

"It won't be easy. By the way," Harry changed the subject, "Did you try meditation?"

"Meditation?"

"You know, when I shot that arrow at the Astronomy Tower?" He reminded her.

"Oh! Yes, yes I did. It wasn't very effective, I thought. Anyway, tell me about what else you learned at the Flamels!"

Harry gave a heavily-edited account of what he learned, focusing more on his journeys around France. He didn't lie to her, but simply exaggerated some of the time he spent learning so it would seem like he took a long time just trying to learn Alchemy. By now, he was so used to keeping his magecraft a secret that he didn't feel any guilt about saying what he needed to in order to conceal it, no matter who he talked to. And actually, he was quite enjoying the verbal sparring as they tried to steer the topic of discussion the way each of them wanted.

_I think she's about to blow, Harry. You better stop baiting her. _Archer advised as they watched Hermione glare back.

_Okay. _"So what about the others, have you talked to them? When are we going to Neville's? It's today, right?"

That did the trick; Hermione gasped and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh no, I totally forgot!" She glanced at the clock in Harry's room. "We need to be there by ten! We have to catch the Knight Bus quick!"

Harry took a look of his own; it was barely nine. "At least let me shower and change?"

"Oh, of course..." Harry could feel her watching him as he grabbed a change of clothes from his wardrobe. "Can I look through that notebook?"

"Go ahead."

_Any bets on whether she'll look through my bag while I'm in the toilet? _Harry thought as he stripped and stepped into the shower.

_What would I even bet? _Archer asked sardonically. _It's a bit harsh that you don't trust her enough to tell her about magecraft._

_I do trust her, _Harry replied, _It's just that her thirst for knowledge can get a bit too much. Better that it stays a secret rather than have our relationship destroyed because of her envy._

Archer sighed. _Do as you wish._

When Harry entered his room, Hermione squeaked and shut the notebook of Alchemy notes she had been looking through. He was a little pleased to see that the bag, with the magecraft books hidden at the bottom, had not been touched.

"Interesting?" He inquired.

"Quite. How do you keep note of everything?"

_With Structural Analysis, _thought Harry, but out loud he said, "Lots and lots of study. Hey, give me a hand here."

He took several packages from his bag and sent Hermione down to get a proper carrier bag for them. While she was gone, Harry quickly retrieved his magecraft-related stuff from the bottom of the bag and hid them away under the bounded fields. When she returned, Harry donned a cap to hide his white hair, before they left the house and walked to a corner where Hermione held out her wand.

There was a BANG, and a purple triple-decker bus came out of nowhere to screech to a stop in front of the two. A conductor dressed in similar colors jumped from the bus and faced them.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the standard witch or wizard - Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this morning!"

"London, please. The Leaky Cauldron." Hermione told him as she boarded the bus.

"That'll be eleven sickles per person." Stan replied promptly. "But for firteen you get 'ot chocolate-"

Harry dug into his coin pouch and drew out one Galleon and five Sickles, which he thrust into the man's hand to shut him up. He took a seat near to Hermione, who was looking quite nervous as she held onto one of the few poles.

"London? Is that-"

Hermione replied in a grim tone. "I don't know where Neville's place is located, so we're using the Floo. Hold on tight, Harry, because-"

"Take 'er away, Ern!" Stan called out as he jumped into an armchair next to the driver.

Harry found out why his friend was so tense about riding the Knight Bus, as with another BANG, he was slammed back into his seat by the sudden acceleration of the bus. The driver looked like he not only had no idea how to drive, mounting the curb frequently and making the bus weave like a drunk driver would, but he also looked like he couldn't see more than five feet in front of him, given the thick glasses on the man's face. If not for whatever magic that was causing houses and other fixtures to jump out of the way, Harry was sure that they would be dead already. The bus seemed to move with a sort of Apparation, with loud bangs where a wizard would make cracking sounds, and the scenery would change frequently. Occasionally, the bus would skid to a halt as the driver jammed on the brakes like he wanted to put the pedal through the floor, causing the seats to skid forward, before Stan would escort a sickly-looking passenger down from the bus, and then they were off again.

At last, the bus was coasting along Charing Cross Road, and soon screeched to a halt in front of a familiar, dingy-looking bar. Harry and Hermione got off, thanking the driver out of courtesy, and Harry spent a few moments stroking Hermione's back while she tried to recover from the ride. After a few minutes, she felt well enough to go on, and they entered the bar. Hermione took out two Knuts and placed them on the mantelpiece over the fireplace, before digging into the small clay pot next to where she left the coins.

"Have you taken the Floo before?" She turned to ask.

"Heard about it, seen it done, but no." People in France used them, and he had asked the Flamels to explain about it.

"Okay, just follow me then." Hermione looked a little nervous. "I'm still not used to this yet."

She withdrew a pinch of glittering powder and flung it into the flames, causing them to roar up in emerald green. Taking a deep breath and swallowing, Hermione stepped into it, shouted "Longbottom Manor!", and vanished with the green flames.

Harry blinked, confirming her disappearance. Then he made his way over to the pot and took his own pinch of Floo powder. He could smell the prana in it, but it wasn't as strong as he expected it to be. But apparently, it combined with the fire to create a portal.

_Interesting way of travel. _Harry mused. _Let's try it out, Archer._

_Make sure to speak clearly._

Nodding, Harry tossed the powder into the fireplace and watched the emerald flames flare up again. "Longbottom Manor!" He said clearly, stepping into the fire and trying not to sneeze at the strong smell of prana.

He was unprepared for the sensation - it was like being sucked down a giant drain, spinning furiously with loud roaring in his ears - the whirl of green flames threatened to upset his stomach, and Harry kept his eyes shut. Then suddenly, the feeling stopped, and he felt himself sliding forward. His legs didn't feel like they were responding, and Harry instinctively curled his body forward, taking his fall into a roll that brought him straight back up to his feet.

Blinking, he looked around to see that he was in a olden-style sitting room, with carved wooden pillars and chairs. Everything spoke of the Longbottom family's ancestry, and Harry kept very still as he also noticed the bounded field he was in. But surprisingly, he was alone; Hermione wasn't around. Frowning, he turned slightly to study the rest of the room. Everything looked normal, there were chairs and tables, and... Harry spotted the note on the nearby table and picked it up. It provided straight directions to somewhere else in the house, and Harry realized just what they were planning.

Sure enough, when he walked through the door of the indicated room, the entire group of people there all shouted "SURPRISE!", and he acted as such.

Neville was the first one to approach him, holding out his hand. "Happy belated birthday, Harry."

Harry shook the offered hand. "Same to you, Neville. Happy belated birthday."

He let his eyes travel over the rest of the people as they came up to wish him the same. After Neville came the Hufflepuffs, Susan, Justin and Hannah, followed by the Ravenclaws, Lisa and Su, then finally Daphne and Tracey of the Slytherins. All of them seemed eager to talk to him, but waited until the last of them had congratulated him on turning twelve. However, just before they could approach him for proper conversations, the door burst open to reveal a breathless pair of redheads.

"Sorry... took us a while... to escape our mom..." George panted.  
"But we're... finally here... so..."  
"Happy birthday, Harry!" The two of them finished together.

"Thought you guys weren't going to come." Harry told them, smiling widely.

"Like we'd miss this." Fred retorted, while George seized Neville's hand and shook it vigorously.

"You know," Harry commented nonchalantly, "It's a good thing you guys aren't allowed to use magic over the summer, or we'd be pranked by now."

"Would we do that, Harry?" asked Fred, wearing a hurt expression.

"Yes you would." Harry deadpanned.

"Is that a challenge I hear?" George had finally finished jerking Neville's arm all over and came to see what his twin was talking to Harry about. "Setting up a prank without magic?"

"Without wand magic." Harry corrected absently, then stopped. "Oh, damn." He said weakly.

The twins' eyes had lit up. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Fred?"  
"I think I'm thinking what you're thinking, George."  
"Thanks for the idea, Harry."  
"We owe you lots for this."  
"Excuse us for a moment, will ya?"

The pair of redheads went off into a corner of the room while Neville and Hermione approached Harry, who was looking dumbstruck.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"I think I just did something really, really bad..." Harry murmured uncertainly.

Neville patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, Harry, I want to introduce you to my Gran."

The other boy led him through a doorway to where an old lady sat in an armchair. Harry recognized the person who met Neville on the platform, and he was promptly introduced to Augusta Longbottom, giving him his first chance at applying his pureblood etiquette lessons from Daphne; he kissed the offered hand and introduced himself back.

Augusta nodded approvingly. "Where have you been for the past few weeks, Harry?" She used his first name because her status was higher than his.

"Touring around France, seeing the sights."

"And who were you with?"

Harry paused, but Archer came to the rescue. _Say a trusted friend of Dumbledore's._

"With a trusted friend of Headmaster Dumbledore. I can't say anymore on that matter."

The old lady accepted that, and proceeded to interrogate Harry on several of his school matters, such as the Student Council. For his part, Harry answered most of them without any problem, but for a few he had to draw on Archer's calm and cool attitude for help, especially when she started making insinuations about Neville's not-so-outstanding performance in school. Harry had almost forgotten that Neville's life had been threatened not once, but several times all in order to get him to exhibit some form of magic, and to see one of the culprits right in front of him made him want to start raising a fuss. But Archer managed to persuade him to calm down, and Harry decided that he would start training Neville up instead. After all, Neville did pretty well as long as he had enough confidence.

"By the way, has Neville told you about his parents?"

Harry noticed the other boy stiffening out of the corner of his eye. "Nnn-yes."

Augusta nodded. "The two of you are quite similar in that aspect. You should be proud of your parents for sacrificing themselves for you."

Harry realized something about what she said. "Wait, do you mean that you don't believe in the whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense?"

"Boy-Who-Lived nonsense? Are you telling me, Harry, that you don't believe yourself to have defeated You-Know-Who?" She glared at him.

"Well, no, of course not. It's just that so many people believe what's written that they don't even think about it." Harry admitted, feeling slightly confused at the old lady's change in mood. "A one-year old child defeating a Dark Lord? It's like nobody even sees what's wrong with it."

"Correct." Augusta nodded again. "I see you've thought this through as well. Your parents were great people, who sacrificed themselves for their son. Just like my Frank and Alice."

Harry glanced over at Neville, who was staring at the floor. Didn't she realize that today was meant to be their combined party? He would have to talk to Neville after this.

But it seemed like she realized her words, and dismissed them from her presence. "Enough of this dreary talk. Go and enjoy yourselves with your friends."

Harry nodded and drew Neville along after him.

"You knew?" questioned Neville as they moved.

"Just that they're alive but not around." Harry replied grimly. He had looked through some past obituaries, but failed to find the Longbottoms names, which meant they were still alive. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Whatever reply Neville was about to give was lost as they finally rejoined the rest of the group, and everyone had somehow decided to start the birthday cake proceedings. Archer didn't miss that Neville, Susan, Lisa and Daphne all tensed up slightly with looks at Hermione, but relaxed after Hannah was the one to bring in the large cake. Harry resolved to ask about it later, but he wasn't sure he would remember if he didn't write it down.

The Weasley twins led the song, then before everyone started clapping at the end of it, went off into a nonsensical song that borrowed the same tune. It made everyone laugh, even Hermione. After that one ended, Justin brought out a camera and took a photo of Harry and Neville cutting the cake, first separately, then together. Once the photos were done, Harry took over the serving, cutting slices for everyone with a practiced speed. This did not go unnoticed by the crowd.

"Do you cook, Harry?" Hannah asked. "You handle the knife well."

"I'm quite a good cook." Harry modestly admitted, digging into his own slice. _Thanks to you, Archer._

_You're welcome._

"That's our Harry Potter." One of the twins broke in.  
"Beating Dark Wizards," His brother added.  
"Mastering magic beyond his age,"  
"And cooking up delicious meals!"  
"A truly desirable-"

Harry finished cutting two extra slices of cake, and just before they finished their pair act, he pushed the slices into their face. Everyone went silent, staring at the sight of Harry Potter standing between the Weasley twins, his hands pressing cake into their faces. Justin raised his camera and snapped off a photo of that.

It was Daphne who broke the silence first, as a chuckle escaped her lips. The humor soon infected the rest of them, and laughter filled the room, even from the twins, who made halfhearted attempts to do the same to Harry, who evaded them easily. Thankfully there wasn't much cake left after everyone had a slice, so they didn't have enough ammunition to sustain a long chase.

Then it was time to open presents.

"I could have opened all these days ago if it wasn't for this joined birthday party..." Neville mock-complained, making some of the others laugh again.

Both boys received a great deal of candy, which was a stereotypical 'safe' gift, but Neville received a few gardening-related items, such as books (Harry's gift was a book on native French plants), actual plants, and tools, while Harry received a wider variety of books (some people joked that he was actually a hidden Ravenclaw), a broomstick servicing kit, and other Quidditch equipment. They thanked their friends for all those gifts, and received smiles in return. However, Justin's presents were watches, simple but slightly costly ones with a leather band, and Harry felt a little bad at having to put it aside because of his current one.

"Sorry, Justin." He apologized, closing the box. "But thanks for the gift, I'll take care of it."

"Don't worry about it." The brown-haired boy waved it off. "But isn't that one heavy? It's rather big."

"Could I see it?" Daphne interrupted.

Harry didn't want to make anyone suspicious, so he took off the Flamels' watch and handed it over to Daphne, who examined it with Justin. They muttered about how light and sturdy it was, and Daphne clearly recognized the fact that it was not made out of most normal metals.

"Received this as a gift while I was on holiday, but I can't say from who." Harry told them.

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Both." Harry felt Archer's amusement at that answer.

"This would cost at least a few thousand pounds!" Justin estimated in shock.

"Much more than that, I think." Daphne handed the watch back to Harry, who put it back on his wrist. "Thank you for letting me look at it."

Harry caught Hermione's look; she probably already guessed that the watch came from the Flamels, and Harry silently groaned as he realized she would come over to question him about it later.

Once all the presents had been opened, Harry started to hand out a few souvenirs from his visit to France. Most got chocolates, but he also had a few trinkets to hand out as well, like keychains and miniature models. Everyone also started asking about his trip, so Harry spent some time talking about what he did and ate; while Hermione heard some of it, this time he could go into further detail, and the Weasley twins were awed to hear about the Veela he met.

"He can even resist a Veela's allure!"  
"Truly a-"

Harry simultaneously nailed both of them in the face with the couch cushions, but the damage was done; Daphne and Susan, who already knew about Veela due to their growing up in the wizarding world, were looking at him speculatively. For the rest, he had to explain what Veela were, and Archer had to help Harry keep track of his words to avoid mentioning the Flamels. After he had exhausted the limits of that topic, Harry went on to talk about some of the spells that he came across, which was just as interesting to them as the topic of Veela.

By the time Harry was finished talking, it was time for lunch, and Neville led them to the dining room, where a feast awaited. Once again, Harry noticed the same people tensing up with glances at Hermione, and at the same time detected the prana of house elves. He sensed that Archer had figured out what was going on already, but the spirit would not divulge what it is. But Harry had a hunch, and pulled Neville away to ask about it after the meal.

"Why did you tense up while looking at Hermione?" He whispered.

Neville looked at him, startled. "You noticed? The thing is..." The boy glanced at Hermione, who was taking a drink from her glass without looking out of place. "Hermione's offended by the idea of house elves."

"Offended?" inquired Harry.

"She calls it slavery, and goes on at length about it. We tried to explain it to her, but she refuses to listen. House elves-"

"House elves like serving people." Harry nodded, having learned that from his interactions with the Hogwarts kitchen elves. "So what now?"

"Daphne noticed that as long as she doesn't see it, she won't say anything. So we try not to bring up house elves at all."

Harry eyed Neville's troubled expression. _Another example of the typical ostrich behavior... even someone like Neville's not free from it, huh? I expected Daphne to do something at least..._

_If you wish to change this society, you have a lot of work to do. But perhaps it is just that your friend Hermione is just that stubborn._ Archer said.

After digesting the meal, Neville led them on a tour of Longbottom Manor, showing them the basic rooms in the house, before going out to the greenhouses, which he presented to them with a bit of pride. Anyone with an eye for plants could see that both the magical and mundane were flourishing in those greenhouses, and Neville's motions as he checked over some of them were reminiscent of Harry's motions while cooking, full of sureness that the boy never demonstrated in most of his Hogwarts classes except for Herbology. While the others wandered around the place admiring Neville's work, Harry was enlisted into helping Neville hold a pot steady while he repotted a plant.

"Harry..." Neville said uncertainly.

"Hm?" Harry looked up at the other boy.

"I think I should tell your about my parents." Neville turned his head aside. "I've never actually told anyone else before..."

Harry nodded and waited for Neville to prepare himself.

"Eleven years ago, a Death Eater named Bellatrix Lestrange used the Cruciatus Curse on my parents. She tortured them for information, but they never gave in. In the end... they went mad. They've been at St. Mungo's for as long as I can remember."

Harry remembered the Cruciatus Curse, having looked it up after making his first magic circuit. One of the three Unforgivables, it caused its victim excruciating pain under the caster's will, by causing all the nerves to fire repeatedly. While Harry experienced something similar to its like for hours, he managed to survive the experience because he focused his mind on constructing the circuit instead. His survival through that experience put him on the same level as the lucky few who didn't go mad from extended exposure to the curse.

"Every Christmas, I always visit them with my Gran." Neville's brooding expression struck Harry as being somewhat similar to his own when he thought about his own parents. "Seeing them like that... it's hard. Gran tells me I should be proud of them... and I am, I'm proud to be their son. I'm just... not sure I'm ready for everyone else to know it just yet."

Harry gripped Neville's shoulder. "I'll keep it a secret, Neville." He promised.

"Thanks, Harry." Neville told him gratefully. "We're really quite similar, aren't we? I only wish I was as good as you. Merlin knows how much Gran keeps comparing me to you. She also keeps wishing I was more like my Dad."

"You're doing fine on your own, Neville." Harry reassured him, trying not to let his annoyance with Augusta Longbottom show on his face.

"But..."

"Neville, listen to me. Rather than trying to live up to someone else's reputation, you should find your own path, and follow that."

To Harry, Archer was an ideal he hoped to live up to. An ideal of heroism. But Harry didn't believe that the path of Asura was the one for him. Neither did Archer - even if they did share a body, Archer always did his best to keep Harry out of danger, because he was strongly against Harry following the same path as him, especially after his reaction to killing Quirrell. Thus, Harry was currently searching for his own ideal, even as he worked on accumulating power to carry it through.

"My own path?" asked Neville.

Harry nodded. "In other words, find what you want to do, and do it."

They stared at each other for a long while, before Neville finally nodded, his eyes now holding a quiet determination. Harry had no idea what sort of path Neville would eventually take, but he hoped his friend would find it soon. He purposely didn't suggest Herbology despite knowing Neville's talent for that subject, because Archer had once advised him about how limiting options could be done in roundabout ways.

After returning to the house and washing off the traces of the greenhouse, the group finally trooped over to the library, with both Hermione and Harry getting teased along the way for their well-known bookworm attitudes. Su accompanied Harry as he started searching for Transfiguration books, Hermione and Lisa darting along the shelves picking anything they had yet to read, Daphne, Susan and Hannah went off to revisit the rest of the house, Neville was shelving away his new books in the Herbology section, which left the other boys and Tracey to strike up a conversation about professional Quidditch matches.

"How're you doing, Su? Had a nice summer so far?" Harry asked the Oriental girl as they walked among the shelves, then he realized he hadn't really talked to her today. "How was Taiwan?"

Her reply was so soft it was almost inaudible. "It was okay."

Harry eyed the quiet girl, who blushed and refused to meet his eyes. _What's going on with her?_

_This is something you have to figure out yourself, Harry. _Archer replied, a touch of humor in his tone.

"Tell me about it? I'd like to hear what you did over there." Harry put on a smile to try and reassure her.

"It's not that interesting compared to yours..."

"But I still want to hear about yours." Harry thought that maybe he might be able to figure out what was bothering Su if she did tell him.

It took a bit of coaxing, but eventually he managed to get her to open up to him. Unfortunately, he couldn't find any clue to why Su, who was normally more open like during the Council meetings, was suddenly acting so shy around him. By all accounts, she had a normal vacation, seeing the sights, buying new clothes, and tasting new foods, so there shouldn't have been anything wrong with her.

"Getting along well?" Daphne's voice made Su jump, and she shrank back a little as the black-haired girl approached. "Here, Harry, I forgot to pass you this earlier."

She handed him a small golden key, causing him to remember the letter mentioning about his share of the proceeds from the Assignment Quills. Something else to look into the next time he visited Diagon Alley; the money could be put to good use depending on how much there was, perhaps he might even use it to fund the Weasley twins' research.

"Harry, I was wondering if you'd like to visit my house sometime over the next week?" She asked seriously.

"When?"

"Would this coming Tuesday be alright for you? Around four, then you can have dinner with my family."

Harry pulled out his date planner and flipped through it. "I've nothing on that day, so it's fine."

Daphne nodded, a smile appearing on her lips. "I'll be expecting you then, Harry."

Harry stared after her as she walked away, unsure of what to think about Daphne's invitation. Then he turned to look at Su, and was surprised to see her staring at Daphne's back with an odd intensity. He almost stepped back when she turned that gaze onto him.

"Are you free on Monday?" Su demanded, suddenly sounding like her serious Student Council self.

"Uhh..." Harry glanced through the planner again. "After lunch, yeah..."

"Come visit my house on that day." She blurted out, then caught herself. "I mean, if you, if it was- is okay with you?"

"Well... uh, sure... I mean, why not?" Harry thought it was somewhat strange, but he figured that there wasn't anything wrong in doing so.

He didn't expect Su to suddenly beam at him in response to his reply. But in face of such pure emotion, Harry could not bring himself to question it, and simply let her stick close to him while they continued to pore through the bookshelves. And Archer just wouldn't stop being amused over something, it was starting to really irritate Harry.

Time passed rather uneventfully, as the students talked, read or ate snacks. One of the topics that came up was school, and since three of the Student Council members were present, Harry got the others to go through some of Draco's ideas; they agreed with most of his decisions, but also pointed out ways that some of those he rejected would be able to work, while shooting down only one of his approved list. Nearby, the others were discussing the identity of the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Changes every year, you know."  
"Has been for the last twenty years or so."  
"People are reckoning the job's cursed or something." The twins were doing their usual back-and-forth exchange.

"How can a job be cursed?" Hermione asked curiously.

Nobody could answer that, but the topic that turned to the material that would be taught. According to the twins, their first two years they learned about Dark creatures and dueling spells respectively, before Quirrell had brought up Dark creatures again. As things were, the DADA syllabus was, to put it politely, extremely messed up. The best they could hope for was to have a good teacher for that one year, or else all of them would do poorly for their OWLs.

Personally, Harry thought as he half-listened to Hannah's argument on one of the Council projects with the other half focused on the nearby talk, there were more than just grades at stake, and Archer agreed. Voldemort was out there, and if the basic self-defense syllabus wasn't teaching the students well enough, then...

He also talked to the twins about their little sister, but their mischievous reputation had worked against them, and their attempts to break her of her Harry Potter worship had been seen as a cruel prank. Harry realized he might have to deal with a stalker for his second year, and wondered how could he deal with something like that. Nothing came to mind.

Eventually, the time came for them to leave, and as they headed for the Floo point to leave the place, someone brought up the subject of getting together again.

"Want to meet up at Diagon Alley when it's time to buy our new books? Auntie says that we should be getting our booklist sometime soon." Susan suggested, and everyone fell in with the idea.

They promised to update each other once they ran it past their parents. After a brief exchange of farewells, they left through the Floo, with Harry and Hermione resorting to the same method they used to arrive in order to return home.

* * *

Coming back in from an early morning run, Harry spotted a speckled owl waiting in a tree next to his house, As he approached, it flew down to land on the windowsill near him, and put out a leg on which a letter was attached. Harry took the letter from the owl and went up to his room, where he put the letter on his bed and gave Ilya a few owl crackers before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. Once he came back out, he sat at his desk, opened up the envelope of yellowish parchment, and began to read. The front part of it was the typical 'Catch the train at King's Cross on September first', so he simply skipped straight down to the list of books needed for the next year.

**SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:  
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk **(_Got it already, _thought Harry)  
**Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart  
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart  
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart  
Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart  
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart  
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart  
Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart**

Harry counted. _Seven books, all by the same author. Is the new teacher a fan of this Gilderoy Lockhart?_

_Perhaps. But it's certainly going to be expensive. _Archer warned.

Harry nodded while he considered the clues before him. It looked like this year was going to be teaching about Dark Creatures once more. Rolling out of bed, he went into the hall, where he picked up the phone and dialed Hermione's number. After dealing with her excited squeals about Gilderoy Lockhart, he proceeded to call the other members of his group with non-magical parents, and volunteered Ilya to notify those without a telephone about the general decision to go on Wednesday.

But after sending out his owl, Harry got changed into his outdoor clothes, complete with identity-concealing cap, and took the Knight Bus down to Diagon Alley. He had his suspicions about the Lockhart books, and intended to check them out before he decided whether to buy them or not.

When he entered the Alley, Harry wasn't surprised to see that it was quite empty, since it was still quite early in the morning. Flourish & Blotts had just opened, and the man at the counter nodded to him, then to the bookshelf where all the Lockhart books were. Harry heard the man mutter 'Ravenclaw Muggleborn, I bet', and had to stifle a chuckle as he made his way over to where the books were. Picking up **Break with a Banshee**, Harry started flipping through it quickly while analyzing it. Then he picked up the next, and the next, and the next...

Finally, Harry set **Year with a Yeti **back on the shelf, and delivered his judgment. "Crap."

He doubted he would have realized it so quickly if not for Structural Analysis enabling him to compare the books without paper to keep note of each part, but not only did the books talk more about the man and his looks rather than his deeds, but some of them actually contradicted each other. In that one year where he supposedly went around hunting a yeti, Gilderoy Lockhart claimed to have dealt with a werewolf and a ghoul in two separate periods that overlapped each other in a week, both several hundred miles apart from each other in location.

_Archer, what do you think of this guy?_

_I wouldn't trust him. With what's written in those books, it's likely that they are all lies, yet he's able to provide evidence to corroborate his presence at those scenes. _

Harry summed it up for both of them. _There's something fishy about Gilderoy Lockhart. I hope it's nothing too bad..._

On his way out without purchasing any of Lockhart's books (but he did get a tome on Runes that looked interesting), Harry ran into Padma Patil, who told him that her sister was in Madam Malkin's, while she herself was interested in getting the Lockhart books. Putting on a smile, Harry told the Indian girl he had looked through those books, and thought that there _might_ be some secret hidden among all seven books, and left her to her own devices.

Checking his money pouch, Harry realized that he needed to get some cash from Gringotts, and decided that he might as well check out his new vault while he was at it.

Gringotts was nearly empty; there was only one other wizard in the lobby area, and three goblins waiting at the counters. Approaching one of them, Harry gave his name and held up the vault key he had received from Daphne, earning him an escort to the carts. The new vault took a shorter time to reach its destination, and by Harry's memory, much smaller compared to the one he visited before. Still, they both opened through the same method: a small keyhole at goblin chest height.

Harry peered inside. The pile of gold, silver, and bronze wasn't as big as the pile of Galleons in the other vault, but it was quite a modest amount nonetheless. Still, he thought as he grabbed a few handfuls to add to his coin pouch, there was something nice about seeing visible result of a business deal he made, and considered inventing more stuff to sell.

_Just don't get carried away, Harry. _Archer advised, and he nodded.

As Harry left, he surreptitiously analyzed the vault and its protections, before doing the same with the vault his parents left him (He made the excuse that he took too much and wanted to leave some of the gold behind, and said that he enjoyed the cart ride in order to get the goblin to let him go there). Some of the magical defenses they had were quite intriguing, enough to make him wonder the security field would make for an interesting career (He did find a few exploitable holes that he kept to himself), but mostly he did so because he was curious about how Quirrellmort could have gotten in and out without being captured.

Then he made the mistake of mentioning it to his goblin escort as they got off the cart back at the starting area. The creature growled, and summoned a pair of armored goblins with a snap of his fingers.

"You will follow us." It was not a question.

Harry readied himself to fight if necessary, but he could see that it would be a suicidal thing to do, given the number of guards and defenses he would have to fight through to escape. Still, he followed the guards to another room, where they sat him down in a hard chair, before a high-raised desk, which was soon occupied by a grim-looking goblin wearing reading glasses. Judging from the odd magic that sprang up around him, Harry was currently under the effect of a truth ward; he tried to speak a lie, but his throat refused to work.

"You are Harry Potter?" It demanded.

"Yes." Harry replied, boldly making eye contact.

"What do you know of the theft last year, on July thirty-first?" The goblin glanced down, clearly at some document that Harry couldn't see from this angle.

Harry stayed silent as he decided on what to say, and the goblin's expression grew even bleaker as the seconds ticked past. Just as the goblin opened his mouth, Harry finally hit on the thing that would get through to the warlike beings.

"I killed the man who did it." He found it surprisingly easy to admit now, with very little of the emotional pain remaining.

The goblin's jaw hung open, then suddenly shut with an audible snap. "Explain."

Harry took a deep breath, then began to talk. He described how he was suspicious of the new teacher Quirinus Quirrell due to several suspicious occurrences, and talked about (with a bit of sneering) how the clues just seemed to point to the presence of the Stone in the castle, eventually reaching the point where he went through the 'protections' to finally confront Quirrell, or more correctly, Quirrellmort.

"And then I killed him." Harry finished. "Or rather, Quirrell."

"Harry Potter..." The goblin paused to let some ominous atmosphere build up. "Are you saying that the Dark Lord Voldemort is not dead?"

"Errr... yeah, he's mostly dead. But not fully dead." Harry attempted a bit of levity but it fell flat as the goblin continued to eye him.

"Explain."

"I don't know how or exactly why, but Voldemort currently exists as a spirit without any body. He's able to possess people, but it looks like he needed unicorn blood to maintain his host's body because it was breaking down."

Harry fidgeted as he watched the goblin consider the news, and write down something in front of him. After several tense minutes, the goblin finally looked back up at Harry.

"Gringotts finds that you have no relation to the crime that took place on thirty-first July, nineteen ninety-one. You may leave." It was a clear dismissal.

Harry stood up and left with the guards, but as he walked through the doorway, he heard the goblin add something else.

"Thanks for killing the thief." That was said with a note of glee in it.

Harry wasn't really sure what to think, but he was sure that it was a good thing he managed to get out of Gringotts without any bloodshed. Deciding it was best not to test his luck any further, Harry made his way out of the Alley and forwent the Knight Bus in favor of the train. Magic was proving to be rather troublesome, and while the ride was long, it did wonders for his stress level.

_Oh good, _Harry thought as his feet brought him within sight of his house,_ Home sweet home. Where I can finally relax..._

Archer suddenly groaned, but before Harry could ask what was wrong, they both twitched as something penetrated the bounded field Harry had up in his room. Approaching the house cautiously, Harry readied his wand. There were only two physical routes into his room: his window, which he could see was clearly unopened, and his door.

"Welcome back, Harry." His foster mother greeted him as he came through the front door, and he stashed his wand away into a pocket. "What would you like for lunch?"

"Spaghetti, I guess." Harry replied, looking all over the place. _Archer?_

_Nothing's out of place, _confirmed the spirit. _It's likely some kind of teleportation._

_Apparation? _Harry asked as he ventured up the steps cautiously.

_Hard to say, since you haven't really encountered Apparation up close before. _

Whatever Harry was about to say in reply had to wait as a familiar prana scent met his nose, one belonging to a house elf. And it was coming from his room. Checking over his shoulder to ensure that he was alone, Harry brought out his hidden bow. With his free hand, he slowly turned the handle until the latch came free. Then he waited for a few minutes.

When there was no response, Harry pressed the button for Stun and drew his bow. Using his foot, he nudged the door open.

"Harry Potter!" A high-pitched voice squeaked. "So long has-"

The red bolt smacked into the elf, and it toppled over backwards with a shocked expression.

_Harry..._

_Sorry, Archer. I panicked when I heard it call my name and fired without thinking. _Harry sighed and lowered his bow.

As he had expected, there was a house elf in his room, and it had been sitting on his bed, no less. However, unlike the Hogwarts elves, this one was dressed in what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm- and leg-holes. Somehow, as Harry looked at the unconscious elf, the memory of Trelawney saying trouble came in threes sprang to mind. He had a strong feeling that after the Lockhart books and the Gringotts incident, this was the third trouble.

"Damn it." He cursed quietly.

* * *

Just a quick elaboration about Harry's thinking in case it wasn't clear: He wants to become a hero like Archer, because he's attracted by the ideal of being a hero, similar to Shirou attracted by the ideal of wanting to save others. The incident with Quirrell has left him with a slight aversion to killing, and coupled with the effort Archer has been going to in order to prevent Harry from following that same ideal, Harry is searching for his own path to heroism, one that is different from Archer's. It's complicated, but that's the reason why his wand wood is hawthorn. I believed I mentioned that before.

I've been introducing and solving problems in one chapter, and that's why I left the problem of Harry's new magic circuit unanswered for the moment. But of course, I've already thought of a reason for that. Just need the right way to introduce the inspiration he needs to solve it...

Anyway, leave your reviews!


	15. Third Curse

"Right, let's start over from the beginning." Harry eyed the being that had invaded his room from his seat. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

The house elf eyed his bow with some small amount of trepidation. "Dobby, sir. Dobby is here to warn Harry Potter, sir."

"Okayyyy..." Harry studied Dobby for a few moments before opening his mouth to speak. "First, it's NOT a good idea to just enter someone else's room without their permission, understand?"

The elf nodded furiously, causing its ears to flap back and forth. "Dobby understands perfectly, sir. Dobby is very sorry."

_Archer? _Harry asked for confirmation.

_Looks safe. _Archer added his opinion, and Harry finally lowered the bow he had trained on Dobby.

After Harry had Stunned the intruder in his room, he had taken a few minutes to double check the place for any possible changes, and failing to find any, turned his attention to this self-announced Dobby. Initial examination revealed nothing more than just another house elf, with the exception of two letters stuffed inside the pillowcase it wore. If Harry hadn't been so tense or focused on raising yet another bounded field within his room to ensure privacy, he might have felt a little disgusted after retrieving those letters.

What he found just annoyed him further; while he had only recently returned from his stay with the Flamels, and hadn't expected any of his friends to resume writing to him directly instead of through Hermione, evidently Su and Daphne did write, and their letters had somehow ended up in the house elf's possession. Because of that, Harry didn't feel too guilty about waking Dobby up with a Stinging Hex. At least he had aimed it at the foot rather than somewhere more... sensitive.

It looked as though Dobby had yet to realize Harry now had the letters stored in his desk, its attention focused more on Harry himself, even after the boy had lowered the weapon. To his eyes, it looked like Dobby wanted to get off the bed, but was intimidated into staying seated.

"So? What's this warning?"

"Oh, yes, sir," Dobby's voice took one a slight touch of earnestness to please that Harry was familiar with, "Dobby has come to tell you, sir... it is difficult, sir... Dobby wonders where to begin..."

Harry blinked as Archer provided him with the questions; the spirit was definitely curious about the house elf's reason for entering.

"Dobby."

The elf stopped mumbling and looked at Harry with its tennis ball eyes. "Yes, Harry Potter sir?"

"Tell me who, what, where, when, how, and why."

Dobby blinked.

"Who, Dobby?" Harry pressed.

The elf shook its head. "Dobby can't say, sir... Dobby is bound to serve one house and family forever..." It suddenly froze, then jumped up-

And was instantly sent crashing into the wall by a Bludgeoning shot from Harry's bow.

"What were you trying to do?" hissed Harry, already drawing back the string for another shot.

Dobby shook its head, dazed by the impact. "Dobby... Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir... Dobby has to... punish himself..."

Harry made a mental note that Dobby was male; he still had difficulty telling the gender of the Hogwarts elves, and it was just plain rude to ask. He also added another note to research more into house elves and the bond on them. If Dobby had to punish himself just because he was about to say something bad about his owners, it must have been powerful indeed. _Archer, what do you think of this?_

_We need more information before we can make any concrete decision. Probe further._

Harry quickly ran through what he should ask, before speaking. "Is your family responsible for whatever danger I'm going to face?"

Dobby froze, but before he could do anything, Harry continued.

"Is your family _directly _responsible for whatever danger I'm going to face?"

The elf immediately shook his head. "No, sir..."

_Answered right away compared to the previous one. He wants to help, clearly, but he's restricted in various ways. And it's likely that his family is connected to this in some way. _Harry realized, and continued with his next question. "Does your family know you're here?"

This time, Dobby shuddered. "Oh, no, sir, no... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir..."

_That means his family might not have wanted him to come and warn you... find out what condition of the geas he's under requires him to punish himself. _Archer instructed.

Harry lowered his bow once he saw Dobby wasn't going to try anything sudden; clearly the blow satisfied the requirements of self-punishment. "Dobby, can a house elf go against a direct order from his owners?"

"No, sir, never! A master's orders are absolute!" Dobby looked confused at being asked that question.

_That rules out that idea you mentioned, Archer. _Harry reported. _If they had ordered him against warning me, then he wouldn't have been able to come at all._

_Hmm... go on to the next parts first, Harry._

"Alright, Dobby. What exactly is this danger you've come to warn me about?"

"Harry Potter is truly a great-" Dobby stopped when Harry raised the bow again, his expression darkening. "Dobby is sorry, sir... Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he has to shut his ears in the oven door later..." The elf spoke faster as Harry slowly drew back the string to illustrate his eroding patience. "Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

Harry froze. _Not go back to Hogwarts?_

_That means the danger is there. _Archer concluded. _But that's when, not what._

"What is the danger at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, his mood entirely serious and clinical now.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry this year," Dobby was trembling as he spoke. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter will be in great peril if he goes back. He is too important, sir!"

_Have you noticed it yet? _asked Archer.

Harry lowered his bow for the third time. _Yeah. This is the second time he did not provide a direct answer. Instead of what, he answered where. And when I asked for more detail, he provided a general answer, with a similarly general when._

"Harry Potter?"

Harry looked back at Dobby, who had stopped trembling and was staring at him curiously. "Why me? Why am I important?"

Dobby opened his eyes wide with reverence that spilled over into his voice. "Harry Potter is humble and modest. Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-"

"Must-Not-Be-Named, yeah, yeah." Harry finished impatiently. "But that doesn't tell me why I'm important, unless... does this have anything to do with Voldemort?"

Dobby clapped his hands over his ears (and nearly caused Harry to shoot him again), and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

_Even the house elves are scared of that damned alias. _"Fine, then, Riddle. Does this have anything to do with Riddle?" Harry used the true name he had discovered more than a year ago.

The elf's eyes bulged so widely, they looked as though they might pop out of his skull, then Dobby suddenly started nodding so furiously that a continuous clapping sound came from his ears. "Yes! Yes, sir! Riddle is involved, sir!"

"_What?_" Harry and Archer both exclaimed, though Dobby only heard the former's voice. "He's back again?"

Dobby suddenly shook his head. "No, sir, no. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not returned."

"What do you mean, Dobby?" demanded Harry, feeling confused.

Dobby leaned towards Harry slightly. "Dobby heard tell, that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago... that Harry Potter escaped yet again."

Harry nodded, wondering where the elf had learned that.

"But He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not involved in this plot, sir." Dobby started trembling again, and Harry realized that the elf was resisting the urge to punish himself. "Not at all."

"Enough, don't say anything further. Let me think." Harry ordered. _Voldemort is NOT involved, but Riddle IS? It doesn't make sense! Could he be lying?_

_No. _Archer's reply was firm. _This house elf is doing his best to tell you the truth. This is just like that centaur foretelling, everything is true, but only when considered with the right perspective._

_This feels like one of those maths problem... _grumbled Harry. _Assuming that everything is true... _He blinked as an idea hit him. _Assuming... assuming that Voldemort is the one I met as Quirrellmort... then who is Riddle? Who IS Riddle?_

_That's a possible way of looking at it, _conceded Archer, _But keep in mind that we're trying to figure out this Riddle's involvement as well._

_And that falls under 'how'. _Harry added, and looked at a waiting Dobby. "What can you tell me about this Riddle?"

Dobby's mouth open and closed slightly, clearly trying to decide how to phrase things, but his eyes suddenly widened, and he simply vanished with a crack. Harry was similarly surprised; from the readings from his bounded fields, the elf's presence had just _disappeared_ without any movement within them, leaving them just as untouched as if he had not been there at all.

_How is that-_

_A Command Spell. _Archer interrupted, having already guessed the question. _That's the closest explanation._

Harry knew what a Command Spell was from Archer's tale of the Grail War, and what it could do. The enforcement of a Master's order in such a way that it would be absolute, to the point that normally impossible actions could be accomplished. He could sense that Archer was shaken by this discovery; if house elves were capable of such actions through the orders of their masters... It was several times worse than the fact that anyone with a wand was technically carrying a weapon, and Harry could see why. He had experience with the basic ability of house elves from his time with them in the Hogwarts kitchen; with a snap of their fingers, the elves could clean several dozen plates at one go, prepare food for half a dozen within a minute, and teleport nearly anywhere within the castle, going straight through the Anti-Apparation bounded field over the place.

Harry paled as he realized he had made the general wizard mistake with regards to house elves. They were clearly much more powerful than they appeared, but because of their strong desire to serve and the limited range of action he had witnessed, Harry had assumed that their power wasn't enough to pose a threat.

Until now, when a house elf had appeared right within the area of his bounded field and leave the same way, taking less than a second to do so.

He took out a red notebook and flipped it open, and wrote in big letters on the first blank page: **RESEARCH WHAT HOUSE ELVES CAN DO.**

Harry then spent a few minutes staring at the sentence before putting it away to look at the two letters he had received. Both of them were essentially same in content; the girls wanted confirmation that he was going to visit their houses on the agreed-upon days, and had written down instructions on how he was to meet them elsewhere first.

_No date... but I better write back quick. _Harry dashed off two quick replies and sent them out with Ilya before turning his attention to the Dobby issue.

CRACK! "Harry Potter must not-" A blast of red light interrupted the elf in mid-sentence, and he crumpled back onto the bed.

Harry took a moment to calm his breathing down before he lowered his bow.

"Don't DO that!" growled the uptight boy, not caring that the elf he was talking to was currently unconscious.

Inside Harry, standing on a hill of swords, Archer sighed. His host had a hair trigger.

* * *

"Danger at Hogwarts, Dobby's family, Riddle, and NOT Voldemort." Harry muttered to himself as he left the house. "This is problematic..."

Over the weekend, Dobby visited two more times, both times trying to stop Harry from returning to Hogwarts for his second year. Harry similarly tried to find out more about the danger that would be present there, but whatever orders Dobby had from his master prevented him from revealing the details Harry wanted. Still, with Archer's help, Harry managed to work around most of it.

Dobby would punish himself if he even meant to say something remotely insulting about his family, or tried to divulge any information he was forbidden to reveal. Through several painful questions, Harry narrowed the range of that down to the identity of his owner family, the person behind the plot, and how the danger would manifest. He was actually feeling a little sorry for the little fellow, seeing how Dobby tried so hard just to pass on what information he could.

But they now had enough information to make a few concrete conclusions. First was that the plotter was probably one of Dobby's masters, and had been thinking about this for months. However, the danger would come from Riddle, whom Dobby could not reveal anything about, and that led Harry and Archer to conclude that the plan was probably to slip something or someone that was connected to Riddle, into Hogwarts where it would wreak havoc. And apparently, it's presence, while not directly dangerous, would cause enough danger to pose a threat to Harry, hence Dobby's warning.

Second was Riddle. When Harry mentioned it was Voldemort's original name, Archer realized that the Dark Wizard had to start from somewhere before he actually took on the name, and that led the spirit to conclude that when Dobby said Riddle was involved, he might be referring to something Voldemort did or created before he took on his alias. These led the pair to start referring to Riddle's involvement as Riddle's Box, named after a certain Greek myth, until they knew just what Riddle did. There were many true and fictional stories in both wizarding and mundane culture in both Harry and Archer's realities about how magical items could manifest an effect years after their creation once they were activated, and it was likely that Riddle's Box was one of these. In addition, since Riddle's Box was involved in the plot, Dobby could not divulge any details on it apart from its creator's identity.

Dobby stated he could not warn the victims of the plot, hence Harry being warned meant that he was excluded from the target list, but that did not meant he would not be in harm's way. There was a random element involved, and the thought of that had Harry and Archer worried; if Harry could be affected by whatever danger there was, so could other innocents.

Considering that, Harry thought it was somewhat strange that Riddle's Box would coincidentally end up at Hogwarts, and Archer agreed. His research into Voldemort's rise gave Archer an insight into the man's character; if Voldemort created something, he would not let just any person lay his hands on it, even if it was before his time as a Dark Lord. Thus, the likely conclusion was that it was something that was held by one of his former followers, most probably one of the ones that pled the Imperious Curse. Unfortunately, that list was long; Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle... all names that most people knew, and most of them rich enough to own a house elf. Still, if Harry's hunch was correct, that meant the targeted group were the non-magical-born students.

Which included Hermione and Su.

As for Dobby, Harry eventually relented and told the elf that he would not go back to Hogwarts, allowing Dobby to finally stop hurting himself in order to warn Harry away. Of course, Harry did so using a loophole. Dobby said that he would stop interfering if Harry agreed not to go back to Hogwarts, so Harry told Dobby that he would say he would not go back to Hogwarts, and the elf left before actually hearing him say so. Harry was not going to let his friends face the danger if he could help it.

_Except I still know too little... _Harry grimaced as he watched the scenery pass by.

_You can't solve everything instantly, Harry. _Archer told him.

Still in a sober mood, Harry got off at the directed stop and followed the written directions to the large park he was supposed to meet Su at. Checking his watch, he saw he still had ten minutes to go before the meeting time, so he sat on the playground swings to wait, and used that time to ponder the issue of Riddle's Box.

"Hey kid, that's a nice watch you've got there. Mind letting us take a look?" Harry looked up to see a gang of four teenagers smirking at him.

He had seen those expressions of greed enough times to guess what they were after. Sighing, he stood up to settle the matter. Archer warned him not to hurt them too much, but allowed him to do what was needed.

Five minutes later, Su arrived, and froze at the sight of the unconscious bodies lying around the place, and Harry playing on the swings with a bored look on his face.

"Harry? Did, did you do this?"

"Oh, hi Su." Harry jumped off the swings and approached the girl. He threw a glance at the would-be muggers. "And yeah, they tried to rob me of my watch. So I fought back."

"How? You didn't... use magic, did you?"

_No, I used magecraft to Reinforce myself. _"I hit them in the stomach first, then followed up with an elbow strike to the temple," said Harry, thinking about how he had taken out the first one; the others had been dispatched by other combinations. "That was enough to knock them out."

Su suddenly sighed. "Do you enjoy doing this?"

Harry shook his head. "Hurting people? No. But standing up for what's right, that's what I want to do. I didn't attack until they did, and even then I ended it as fast as I could."

The girl stared at him for a few seconds before shaking her head. "Just don't tell my parents, okay?"

She turned on her heel and walked off, and Harry followed.

The Lis stayed in a simple house with two floors, but one that was tastefully styled on the outside, which counted as a lot better than the Dursley's dull white one in Harry's book. In fact, compared to the cloned houses of Privet Drive, this entire street was a huge improvement. He shook his head to rid himself of the bad memory, and entered after Su, closing the screen door behind him while he took off his cap.

"Ma! My friend is here!" Su called out.

A glasses-wearing short woman with the same dark hair and olive complexion as her daughter came out from the kitchen. "Oh, hello. You must be Harry Potter." She greeted him, and offered a hand. "I'm Li Xue."

"Hello, Mrs Li." Harry shook hands with Su's mother. "Thanks for having me over for dinner."

"I'm just about to start preparing the food." She informed the pair.

Harry's eyes lit up, and a smile appeared on his face. Seeing this, Su gave him a suspicious look, before sighing in realization.

As he helped out around the kitchen, cutting up ingredients and handling dishes, Harry chatted with both mother and daughter. Though Su was a halfblood on her father's side, both her parents had magic. However, due to their living in a non-magical neighborhood after migrating over, they practiced living within the same standard as their neighbors, only using magic under certain conditions. For most of the usual chores, they relied on manual labor, but where it would cost money to hire a specialist to perform repairs, that was when the Lis would whip out their wands.

To Harry, this was close to the type of balance between magic and mundane he sought. From his conversations with the wizarding-born like the twins or Daphne, their parents used magic nearly ten times a day, all for common things that could have been accomplished with a pair of hands. Certainly, it was easier with magic, but it felt cheap using it all the time; Harry knew that the more people who used a single type of magecraft, the weaker each individual thaumaturgic effect would be, and while he had yet to encounter this in wand magic, it made Harry view magic with a great deal of respect.

"You're really good at this." Mrs Li said approvingly as Harry moved the beef and vegetables around the pan. "Do you cook often?"

"I find it relaxing." Harry admitted, taking the pan off the flames and transferring the food to the plate. "So I cook nearly every day when I'm at home. Not so much at Hogwarts."

"It's rare to see a boy at your age cooking."

Harry's expression darkened slightly as the memory of the Dursleys forcing him to cook came to mind. Instead of replying, he just shrugged. Better than opening his mouth and saying the wrong thing. He had learned that very quickly after getting adopted, which was one of the reasons he didn't really have any close friends from before Hogwarts.

"Anyway, that's it for now, so why don't you show him your room, Su?" Mrs Li told them. "I'll call you down when your father gets home."

Su nodded and led Harry up to the second floor, and gave him his first look at the room of a girl who wasn't Hermione. As he had expected of a Ravenclaw, she had a bookshelf in her room, but it was the small type, and the selection was a combination of preteen light novels and children books. Harry assumed there was a sort of balance between books and clothes for girls, because her wardrobe had the largest selection of girl clothes he had ever seen (although considering that the only other girl in that list was Hermione, that wasn't saying much). The furniture was white, from the bed frame to the desk with the electric lamp on it. The room was also filled with things that made the room homelier than Hermione's, such as photos or stuffed animals. But what was surprising was the color scheme; it was a relaxing lime green.

"Were you expecting blue?" Su asked, noticing him looking around at the walls. "Or moving pictures?" She guessed.

"Not really... I feel quite comfortable with this color. And moving pictures would be bad if your neighbors saw, right?"

Su blushed and stared at her feet.

_Telling a girl you feel comfortable in her room... _

Harry had no idea why Archer said that in an teasing manner, but he assumed that the spirit was simply supporting his bond of friendship, and testing his temper at the same time.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the silence, Harry changed the subject. "So what did you use to do around here?" He asked Su.

That started off a conversation about their likes and hobbies. Learning about one's classmates during a random chat in the middle of group study was one thing, actually asking about one single classmate yielded a whole different experience; Harry hadn't really understood just how little he knew about Su, and when Mr Li came back home and had Harry join his family for dinner, he felt quite out of his element.

It was hard work trying not to give away his annoyance at Archer's refusal to help; the spirit said that dealing with another person's parents was something he would eventually need the experience in, but didn't elaborate why. Harry had a feeling that Archer was secretly laughing at him behind his back.

Mr Tian Li was a quiet and serious person, but Harry could see that the man had a gentle side to him as he interacted with his family. Harry's own interactions with the man wasn't as bad as he had been expecting; while Mr Li was a pureblood, his ancestry did not grant him a place in the British circles, and as such, Harry could afford to be relaxed with the manners he had learned from Daphne. The fact that he had helped to prepare two of the dishes also scored a fair amount of points in his favor.

After dinner, he resumed talking to Su in the privacy of her own room (with the door left open).

Su was a shy girl, but unlike Hermione, she grew up with a few friends in her school, and had cousins back in China that she visited with her family a few times. She had her share of fantasies about princes coming on white horses, and that imagination was fuelled by her knowledge of her own magical ability. Having to live as part of the mundane 'reality' tempered that, and created someone Harry found he liked being around. When he heard about her ambition to become a researcher of magic, Harry couldn't help but feel a deep respect for the small girl. In his mind, he was composing a few notes to write down later, such as her birthday and preferences.

In return, he told her more about his own past. After making her promise not to tell anyone else, he briefly explained how he had been rescued from the abusive relatives he had been left with, and placed with his current foster parents, where he had worked hard to become the strong person he currently was. As usual, he did not make any mention of Archer's existence, though he had a feeling that if he told Su about it, she would believe him.

He got so carried away chatting with her that his foster mother had to call the phone number he had left to remind him to come back home. Su and her parents found it quite funny that he was so embarrassed about forgetting the time, but invited him to come over again sometime in the future. Nodding in agreement, Harry took the Knight Bus home.

However, he didn't get much sleep that night, since after he finished adding to his notes on Su, Archer reminded him that he would need to be on his best behavior when he met the Greengrasses tomorrow. This prompted Harry to stay up late revising his etiquette lessons from his books and memories.

Then he let himself skip his usual morning trainings for once and sleep in for an extra hour.

When Harry turned up at the Leaky Cauldron (Didn't they have any other meeting place in London?), it was without his usual cap, and as such, he was instantly identified and mobbed. Everyone, from Tom the barkeeper, to the top hat-wearing Daedalus Diggle who had bowed to him years ago, wanted to greet him and shake his hand. At first, Harry wanted to tell them all to go do something REALLY uncomfortable, but Archer vetoed that idea instantly. Instead, he forced on a smile and catered to their wishes, before talking about how he was enjoying his re-entry into the wizarding world. It was a difficult act to keep up, but with Archer's help, he managed it without giving away anything important about himself.

Thankfully, Daphne turned up before any reporter caught wind of his presence and came running. She took one look at the crowd and understood the situation perfectly; a few minutes later, she came up to him asking for an autograph, with the Floo location written there. Harry announced his aversion to autographs, but would be relenting just for this once and signed it, as he needed to leave to meet his friend. He spent a few more minutes shaking hands once more (and palmed the Floo cost into Tom's hand), then darted into the Floo after Daphne.

She was waiting for him when he came out. "That was quite the act you put on."

"Same to you." returned Harry, grinning. "Thanks for the rescue."

Daphne smiled. "You're welcome."

The Greengrass home wasn't as old as the Longbottom's, but it was no less opulent; the family was rich. Archer pointed out certain items that indicated a dabbling in the trading of items and commodities, and Daphne confirmed it when Harry asked, and complimented his eye for detail. She led him to a sitting room where her parents were waiting. The man was dressed comfortably but well, and had a slight brownish tinge to his black hair, while the similarly-dressed woman had the same long black hair that Daphne had to mark her as Daphne's mother.

"Father, this is Harry Potter." Daphne introduced

"Hello, sir. Good morning." Harry greeted the tall man. "I'm Potter. Harry Potter." He did not offer his hand since that was the role of the one with the higher status.

While he could feel the weight of the couple's scrutinizing gazes, it wasn't as bad as he thought; they were simply curious about him as Daphne's friend.

"Have a seat. Kerry!"

Harry twitched slightly as a house elf popped into the room; Dobby's presence had left an impression on him. However, this elf was younger, cleaner, and had less wounds on its body. In fact, it was at the same level as any Hogwarts elf; the Greengrass family looked after their house elf well.

"Bring tea for Daphne's guest." Mr Greengrass instructed, and the elf popped away. "Have a seat, Harry."

Harry learned the names of Daphne's parents were Cyrus and Beatrice, and just as Archer had inferred, they made their wealth from the chain of shops they had stakes in. They dealt in various goods, ranging from the typical wizarding tools such as quills and cauldrons, to rare potion ingredients. But he didn't expect them to also have a stake in the non-magical world, dealing in the stock trade.

"Were you expecting us to stay out of it?" Mr Greengrass asked. "It's not surprising, every time somebody mentions 'Pureblood', people think of someone who is totally cut off from the Muggle world."

"But money is money. Our investments in that area are nearly as prosperous as those in the wizarding world." added his wife.

"Then what about the other Purebloods?" Harry asked, taking a sip of the tea the elf had delivered.

"They can sneer at us from their high thrones all they like," Mr Greengrass said, "Apart from the Malfoys," He made the name sound like a bad curse, "The rest of them aren't as rich as they appear to be. If not for the Weasleys..." The man let it trail off.

Harry understood. "Looking good by comparison, you mean."

Cyrus Greengrass smiled for the first time. "Exactly."

Daphne looked around. "Where's Tori?"

"She's in her room, I believe." Her mother answered calmly. "Why don't you bring her down to meet Harry?"

The moment she stepped out of the room, Harry suddenly faced a series of questions from the parents, and he finally understood Archer's meaning from yesterday. The Greengrasses asked him a wide range of questions about his time at school, and Harry eventually noticed what they were doing; when one asked the question, the other would watch Harry carefully to gauge his body language as he replied. He couldn't help but feel a bit of awe at how well they worked together as a pair to pull that off.

"He's here? Really?" Harry turned towards the door when he heard the muffled voice of another girl.

"Yes, so you better-" Whatever Daphne was saying got interrupted as the sitting room door swung open to reveal a young girl.

Where Daphne took after her mother, this girl took after her father, with shorter curly black hair that was touched with brown. Harry took one look at her face and groaned mentally; this was another fangirl.

"I'm Astoria Greengrass. You're really Harry Potter." She told him breathlessly.

Harry blinked; he had been expecting her to greet him in the traditional manner, and a quick glance at Daphne's face told him that she didn't expect this breach of etiquette either.

_Don't get distracted just because she didn't act how you thought she would. _Archer warned. _Responding to surprises well is something you should train, whether it's with regards to people or situations._

Harry quickly caught himself and greeted the girl back. "Yes. Yes I am. Hello."

He had very little experience with siblings of people he knew apart from the twins and their brothers Ron and Percy (And the twins didn't make for good examples), and was a little taken aback by the difference between Daphne and Astoria. Where Daphne was reserved, Astoria was excitable, and more often than not, her parents and sibling had to chide her for some lapse in manners. She would correct herself, but her concentration would eventually fail, causing her to start chattering away again.

After a while, he realized that her awe of him was only partially from his identity as Harry Potter, and more because he was a male friend of her elder sister, which meant he was something of an older brother. For his part, Harry thought that her innocence was enjoyable, and thus he didn't mind her attention as much as he would have from someone else.

Compared to the Lis, Harry found the Greengrasses more refined, but no less welcoming to him. Even when they adjourned to the dining room for lunch made by their house elf, they asked and answered questions without any qualms about the topic (He obviously didn't bring up Voldemort, since that wasn't a good topic at any time). It was quite interesting to discuss with Mr Greengrass about some of his creation ideas and how to market them, particularly the automatic stirrers for potion use. Harry agreed to send over his notes on its creation in exchange for a larger share of the profits compared to his Assignment Quill, to be deposited into the same vault as before. With the man's encouragement, Harry also resolved to try exploring different writing styles on his quill, and wrote down the idea in his notebook.

Daphne and Astoria shared a single bedroom that was nearly twice as large as his own, with their beds on opposite sides. And it was pink. Bright pink.

"Not a word, Potter." Daphne murmured with an elbow dig in his ribs.

"Since when did I become Potter again?" Harry whispered back, moving his lips as little as possible, but the task was made harder because the corner of his mouths wanted to go up.

She stepped on his foot instead of replying, and when he didn't react, ground her heel in, making him wince. Archer just smirked, enjoying Harry's discomfort.

Still, he managed to enjoy himself quite a bit. At home, it was more about improving his physical skills and knowledge. At school, it was about keeping up with his schoolwork while he refined his magic and magecraft. But here, he could cut back and relax a little, and Archer agreed that it was a good thing for him to be able to do so.

"By the way, where in Diagon Alley are we meeting the others tomorrow?" He asked casually, then paused along with Daphne.

They had completely forgotten about that detail.

* * *

The first thing Harry did when he saw Hermione after opening the door to her knocks was completely unintentional; he yawned in her face.

"Couldn't sleep?" The girl asked amusedly. "I had some trouble sleeping myself."

Harry didn't say anything, he just went to finish his breakfast with a gesture for her to come in first. It was better that she thought he suffered from a lack of sleep due to excitement, instead of finding out that he was working on modifying the Assignment Quill's design. It had been harder than he had expected, forcing him to refer to a few of his Charms books, and only managed to complete it long after midnight.

Hermione greeted his foster parents, politely refusing the offer of breakfast saying she ate before coming here with her parents. Harry continue to go about his tasks drowsily, vaguely acknowledging the adults' apologies that they couldn't accompany him to Diagon Alley again. After he was done eating, he said his goodbyes and got into the Grangers' car, where he promptly fell asleep.

When he was awoken, Harry found that they had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, and was feeling much more alert after his nap. They waited for Hermione's parents to park the car nearby, before helping them go into the magically-hidden pub. Like many times before, nobody paid Harry any attention because of his cap, and they went into the backyard where Harry opened the gateway with his wand. As expected, the place was packed with Hogwarts students coming to purchase their next year's equipment.

"We need to change for your magical money first, dear." Mrs Granger decided, so they headed for Gringotts.

Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm and pointed down the street. "Hey look! Is that..."

The red hair certainly did stand out in the crowd, especially with so many of them there. Feeling a bit mischievous, Harry searched his pockets and found the rubber band among the odds and ends he carried. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Hermione bite her lip, but more out of restrained laughter than disapproval of the fact he was about to shoot someone with it. He targeted one of the two identical looking heads, and let the red missile fly.

"Ow!" A hand came up to rub the spot he hit, and Fred turned around to see Harry waving at him with a smirk on his face. "Harry!"

His twin, and the rest of the family, turned around. "Where? Oh, I see him too!" George exclaimed.

The Weasleys immediately reversed course and met the Granger party halfway. Harry got his first look at the father of the large group of redheads; Arthur Weasley was a thin, balding man who contrasted his wife in body size, but he displayed a great deal of energy when he realized that Hermione's parents were 'Muggles', and offered to buy them a drink before his wife reminded them of the need to go to the bank. Harry made sure to greet the sons; he waved to Ron, soberly shook hands with Percy, and got clapped on the back by the twins. Ginny just nodded to him from behind her mother, the color of her face nearly blending in with her hair.

_I do think that I prefer Astoria to her. _Harry mused as the large group were bowed into Gringotts by the goblins at the door. _Guess Fred & George couldn't manage to break the habit after all._

Archer just kept silent.

The Grangers went to change money, watched by an excited Arthur Weasley with Harry explaining things to him, while the rest of the Weasleys went down to their vault. The man had a great curiosity about the non-magical world, which he demonstrated by throwing question after question at Harry, who did his best to answer them. In return, Harry found out that Mr Weasley worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, and learned about how the man dealt with non-magical equipment that were enchanted. He was so elated to learn about things that Harry found himself liking the man and agreeing to share their separate knowledge sometime.

It took a few leading questions from Archer for Harry to see another failing of the wizarding society. If Arthur Weasley, the one person in the Ministry of Magic who dealt with the non-magical world on a daily basis, knew so little about it, then what did that say about the rest of the Ministry? As the two groups met up after the completion of their tasks, Harry bit his lip. Magic did seem so amazing, and it was scarily easy to overlook the mistakes for it.

_As long as you can see that, I think you should be fine. _Archer told him encouragingly.

Back outside on the marble steps, they all split up; Mr Weasley insisted on taking the Grangers back to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink (and possible interrogation). The twins spotted their friend Lee Jordan. Percy slipped off somewhere with a barely audible mumble about needing a new quill (Harry thought the stiff boy was acting rather suspiciously). Mrs Weasley and Ginny were going to a secondhand clothing stall. That left Ron to trail after Harry and Hermione.

"We'll all meet at Flourish & Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," announced Mrs Weasley as she set off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" She shouted at the twins' retreating backs.

"Knockturn Alley?" Harry inquired as they walked along the winding, cobbled street. He had heard of the place before when he was exploring Diagon Alley, but didn't really know much about it.

"It's a dodgy place," explained Ron, "They sell stuff you wouldn't find around Diagon Alley. Dark stuff."

"Isn't that against the law?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. I hear the Aurors conduct raids occasionally, but the worst anyone gets is just a fine."

_Sounds like bribery and corruption to me, Archer._

_I was thinking the same thing. _

Harry nodded, but out loud he said, "We're meeting our friends at Fortescue's, you want to come along?"

"I guess." Ron shrugged again. "I still don't get why you want to hang out with Slytherins."

"And I don't get what you've got against them," Harry countered, and before Ron could retort with his typical 'Slytherins are evil' line, he went on, "So let's just agree to disagree. Come on."

Justin, Susan and Hannah were already there with Su, eating peanut butter ice cream. Harry ordered three large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, and sat down to wait for the others. Lisa soon turned up, followed by Daphne and Tracey, who made a point of ignoring Ron, and received the same in return. They chatted with each other as the new arrivals bought their own desserts and took time to eat them at the table. Harry informed them about the arrangements with the Weasleys, and the rest of the group agreed to alter their schedule to fit theirs.

They spent time looking through the windows of the shops lining the alley, examining the fascinating displays in them. Predictably, Ron was attracted by the orange Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies, while Hermione and the other Ravenclaws stocked up on ink and parchment next door, as Harry and the remaining girls looked through some of the more exotic quills that were on sale. As they passed by Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, they were joined by Fred, George and Lee Jordan, who had stocked up on Dr Filibuster's Fabulous 51 Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. Harry had a bit of fun giving them some ideas on how to build a setup that would trigger without magic. Later, in a tiny junk shop they took turns entering to avoid overcrowding the place, they found Percy among broken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks with potion stains on them. The older boy was deeply engrossed by a small book titled **Prefects Who Gained Power**.

"'A study of Hogwarts Prefects and their later careers'," Harry heard Ron reading off the back cover as he peered among broken jewelry in a dusty case. "That sounds fascinating..."

"Go away." Percy snapped.

Meanwhile, Harry examined a slightly cracked gem on a ring, listening to Archer talk about how there was a field of magecraft that dealt in the storage of prana in objects, particularly jewels. On a whim, he touched a finger to the gem and activated his created magic circuit. Unexpectedly, he could feel a bit of prana filling the cracked pieces, before it suddenly cracked further, causing the stored prana to dissipate with a small flash of light.

_Uh oh! _Harry looked around, but luckily for him, it appeared that his body prevented anyone from noticing what happened. _Whew._

_That was... unexpected. _Archer was surprised. _I couldn't do that with my circuits._

_Really? _For the first time in days, Harry was elated; his new circuit could finally do something Archer's couldn't! _Then... do you think I could learn this Jewel Magecraft you were talking about?_

_It's possible... but I only know it from an observer's point of view. _There was a short pause. _It would be extremely dangerous, you know. If you go about it wrongly, there is a chance you might severely injure or kill yourself._

_But this is the first breakthrough I've had! _objected Harry.

_Would you be willing to risk your life on that?_

Harry didn't answer, but Archer could tell that the boy was still determined to pursue the issue. So the spirit started thinking of several ideas to make any undertaking safer. But before he could suggest anything, there was an interruption.

"Harry? What are you looking at?" Harry flinched away in surprise, but it was only Daphne. "There's no need to be so nervous. Oh, you're interested in jewelry?"

"Y-yeah, they look nice, you know?" was the excuse Harry gave.

Daphne nodded, making her locks bob slightly. "Did you know there's magic that can be done with them?"

"Really?" Harry couldn't help sounding extremely eager, and Daphne could hear it.

"Yes. You want to learn?"

"I'm always up for new knowledge." Harry assured her.

"Closet Ravenclaw." She teased, one of the few times where she let her other side show through to him. "Come on, we're leaving. As for learning, my family's got a few books..."

"Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got in all planned out," Ron was saying to Hermione as they rejoined the group, "He wants to be Minister of Magic..."

"He's been working hard at it, too," added Fred, who had overheard. "His exam results came around the end of July, twelve OWLs, but he hardly gloated at all." Hermione's mouth opened in awe at that, and Harry could see her start planning to break that record.

"Our brother Bill got twelve too." George told them. "If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."

"Not everyone's like you two." Justin joked, nudging George in the ribs with an elbow.

The other members of the group sighed, facepalmed, or shook their heads at the twins' way of thinking. Seeing the time, they started making their way over to Flourish & Blotts to get the books.

After a while, George started talking again. "Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year," He said, "Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needing robes and wand and everything..."

Nobody said anything; the Weasleys' financial status was a well-known issue, but it wasn't polite to point it out.

Except Harry. "About that... I've got an idea." He explained his thinking; if each person bought only one book, then shared it among the rest of the group, they could save a lot of money. "I've seen the prices, and honestly, I REALLY don't want to spend all that gold."

Hermione objected, but the rest of them brightened up as they realized the benefits. Then the twins drooped.

"Won't work, Mom won't go for it."  
"She'll say we're trying to goof off."

"Then you buy yours, and share it among the rest of us." Tracey pointed out. "Simple."

"You know, you're not too bad, for a snake, I mean." Ron told the girl.

Tracey buffed her nails on her clothes and blew on them. "Why thank you."

"Just in case," Harry dug into his coin pouch and slipped Fred the necessary amount of gold. "Use this to buy brand new copies. After passing by that secondhand bookstore, I'm not sure I want my school books in that condition. If anyone else asks, say you made it from bets." The Weasley twins ran a well-known betting ring in school, so it was a believable excuse.

"Thanks, Harry!" George told him.

Harry caught a slightly jealous look from Ron, but didn't say anything. He WORKED for the money he was spending, and with the notes he had sent out with Ilya, they would just increase even more.

Unexpectedly, there was a large crowd jostling outside the doors of the bookstore, trying their best to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

**GILDEROY LOCKHART  
will be signing copies of his autobiography  
MAGICAL ME  
Today 12:30pm to 4:30pm**

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed, and Susan and Hannah looked like they felt the same way, "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!" The pair of girls stopped and looked at the bushy-haired girl, clearly disagreeing with that reason; Hermione didn't notice.

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs Weasley's age, Harry noted with some amusement. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, trying to calm them down and stop them from causing any accidents. Fighting their way in, the group grabbed copies of the schoolbooks they needed, except for Harry, and sneaked up to the line where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Hermione's parents, a line that wound right to the back of the shop where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books.

After a short discussion as to how they should split the division of the books, the non-interested group members headed over to the other line where those who weren't interested in Gilderoy Lockhart could pay for their own books. As Harry had already gotten all the books he wanted, he slipped away to the stairs where he could get a good look at the cause of the crowd. Thankfully the line did not extend upwards, so he did not have to fight for the location.

Gilderoy Lockhart was seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzling white teeth at the crowd (_Pretty boy, _agreed Harry and Archer). The man wore robes of forget-me-not blue that matched the shade of his eyes, and his pointed wizard's hat was carefully angled on his wavy hair to give him a jaunty look. As Harry watched, the Weasleys finally made it near the head of the queue, and the photographer taking pictures of Lockhart accidentally bumped into Ron. The short man snarled at his Gryffindor year-mate, who shot back a retort that made Gilderoy Lockhart look up and shake his head before continuing with his book-signing.

Reinforcing his ears, and wincing as they got used to the noise of the crowd, Harry listened in as Hermione finally got her books signed. He sighed as she gushed over the man's works, and suddenly heard something that made both of their eyes widen. Before he could question what he had heard, Gilderoy Lockhart suddenly stood up.

"Ladies and gentlemen," announced the man, waving for quiet, "Allow me to make a little announcement that I've been sitting on for some time!"

"My dear little fan here, Miss Hermione Granger, has just told me about her close friend, Mr Harry Potter (Harry facepalmed in disbelief)! I'm sure that when he, and his friends, bought my books, they had no idea that they would be getting much, much more!"

"In fact, they and their schoolmates, will be getting the REAL magical me! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd burst into cheers and applause, and Harry's groan went unnoticed. He almost missed Lockhart's mutter of "Present these to your friend Harry, with my compliments." to Hermione as the girl was presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry was about to go back downstairs to rejoin (and interrogate) her when he spotted a very familiar shade of white-blond hair, and settled back for closer observation.

Draco Malfoy approached Hermione and Ginny where they were waiting for the rest of the group, and was currently delivering the scathing lecture Harry intended to give his friend. It was a bit disconcerting to hear the words he wanted to say come out of the blonde's mouth, but Harry couldn't help grinning slightly.

Then Ron found them, and things began to heat up between the two as Draco made scathing comments about the redhead's family wealth, or lack of it. Shaking his head, Harry searched, and managed to find, a second rubber band in his pockets. Draco needed a reminder about how to be polite.

"Ron!" He heard Mr Weasley's voice. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley." A new voice entered the conversation as well.

Harry didn't like the tone of that voice, and took a quick look. It was very clear that the man was Draco's father, with the same pale, pointed face and gray eyes, though much colder than his son's. The man's hair was long and straight, extending down past his shoulders, and even Harry thought he looked rather feminine. However, the cold air and regal bearing about his person made it clear that Mr Malfoy wasn't a person to cross.

"Lucius." Mr Weasley sounded extremely cold, completely unlike his previous cheerful self.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," drawled Mr Malfoy. "All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched the man reach into the cauldron next to Ginny and pull out a very old and battered copy of **A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration** from all the brand new Lockhart books Hermione had dumped inside. His nose twitched; what was that odd smell of prana that he was smelling?

"Obviously not." Mr Malfoy's lips twitched mockingly. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of a wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr Weasley flushed even darker than his sons or daughter, and Harry understood just where Draco's proud nature had come from. However, he REALLY didn't like Draco's father, and doubted he ever would.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of a wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly." Harry noted Mr Malfoy's gaze straying over to Hermione's parents, and started to take aim with his rubber band. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower..."

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr Weasley had thrown himself at Mr Malfoy, sending both of them into a bookshelf behind the blonde. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down over the heads of the group, and Harry had difficultly seeing what was happening. He could hear one of the twins yelling "Get him, Dad!", even as Mr Weasley's wife shrieked for her husband to stop. It didn't help that the crowd was stampeding away from the fight and knocking more bookshelves over. Gritting his teeth, Harry Reinforced the rubber band and tried to figure out what he should do. Should he enter the fray?

Then the deafening voice of Hagrid broke through the din. "Break it up, there, gents, break it up-"

The huge man was wading towards the tussling pair, and in an instant, pulled them apart. Mr Weasley had a cut lip while Mr Malfoy's eye was starting to swell. The blond man was still holding Ginny's Transfiguration book; he thrust it at her with a malicious look, and that was when Harry struck.

He ducked away from the edge of the railing the moment the rubber band left his fingers, but he didn't have to see to know the path it took; a tiny blur of red sped across the room, smacking Mr Malfoy in the temple and rebounding off the man's head as it jerked from the impact. It wouldn't kill the man, but it would almost certainly knock him out.

"Father!" Draco shrieked, and the crowd yelled once more.

_That wasn't a good thing to do, Harry. _Archer scolded the boy. _You can't go around doing that to people just because you don't like them._

_I'm not the only one who doesn't like him, though._

_That's not the point. What if you provoke him and he blames someone who can't defend himself from those accusations?_

Harry froze, and then sighed. _I'm sorry, Archer. I didn't think again._

Archer sighed. _You better go before anyone finds you. _He advised.

He managed to slip out of the store and rejoin the rest of the group, of all whom looked a little shocked over the whole altercation between the two families' fathers. Harry also spotted a furious Lucius Malfoy staggering off in another direction with a ugly-looking bruise on his temple, supported by his son. Most of the children were stunned by what took place, even the normally unflappable Daphne, and Su was actually shivering until Harry put an arm around her reassuringly. The Grangers were similarly frightened, while Mrs Weasley was nearly bursting with rage.

"A fine example to set for your children... brawling in public... what Gilderoy Lockhart must have thought-" She appeared to have some difficulty forming full sentences.

"He was pleased," interrupted Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report - said it was all publicity..."

_I see now... _Archer murmured, but Harry wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on calming down the rest of the girls.

He reached Ginny, but stopped when she blushed and hid behind Percy. Instead, Harry frowned and sniffed the air. The odd prana smell was there again, but he had difficulty placing its location. Taking one look at the rest of the group, Harry suggested it would be best if they just all went home for now and divided up the books later. The adults didn't waste any time in agreeing; the events of the day proved to be a bit too much for them.

Harry wasn't surprised when George sidled up next to him and whispered "Nice shot, Harry." in his ear. He figured that someone would have spotted the rubber band, but only a few people would have realized what it was. Harry could see the twins contemplating including rubber bands into their experiments.

The drive back home was filled with a lot of explanations about the bigotry in the wizarding world. The adults knew that it already existed from the children's letters, but this time they actually witnessed it themselves. With their daughter's safety at stake, they were naturally worried, but eventually Harry managed to persuade them. It was one of the hardest thing he had ever done, especially since he personally didn't support the society, but it was natural to support a friend, after all.

But Harry silently swore that he would eventually change things for the better.

* * *

The rest of the summer passed surprisingly quickly after that. Using cheaply-bought crystals from a variety of stores, combined with a modified alchemic array to control any outbursts of power, Harry started working on injecting prana into crystals. After so long without magecraft, it was a welcome change to finally resume his training in it.

Archer helped by telling what little he could remember, and despite it being the basics of basics, so well-known that any magus (in Archer's world) would know it, it was at least something Harry could start from. Jewels were said to be able to absorb and accumulate the thoughts of their owners, and thus the same would be valid for prana. Some jewels that spent years underground might come in contact with the spirits of nature, and become stained with the power of said spirits, and thus become usable as a simplified Thaumaturgical Crest. The prana embedded into a jewel would take on some of the stone's mystical properties, enabling the magus to then use that altered power whenever and however he deemed necessary.

Daphne lent him a few books on enchanted gems and other items, with references to other tomes he could look up in future. They were more complicated than Harry expected, and Daphne knew it; the note she inserted into them told him in no uncertain terms that enchantment of objects was something that required NEWT-level Charms, Runes and possibly Arithmancy, according to her parents. Still, he at least managed to understand why some gemstones were said to have mystical abilities, as history explained that enchanters, in order to hide their magical arts from the non-magicals, transferred the 'blame' to the gems they used, playing off superstition in order to convince the non-magical world that gemstones held mystic properties. While it was true that some gemstones had certain properties that endeared them towards magic of a particular nature, most simply held whatever magic the wizard placed into them.

Except once again, Harry's knowledge of magecraft added a whole new perspective. As the thaumaturgical theory stated, the stronger the faith in a particular mystery, the more robust the magic would be. Even now, centuries after the first wizarding enchanters lied about the mystical properties of gems, people still believed in them. While Harry didn't have any way of proving it, it appeared that the basis of the initial lie might have been altered by the widespread belief in it. Harry bought two non-magical books on gemstones that described their molecular structure and mystic properties, and spent hours poring through them in order to memorize those properties.

Magic, magecraft, Alchemy, molecular chemistry;every single subject he had learnt contributed towards Harry's progress. He went through mistakes and failures, and learnt from them, using up a great deal of paper as he took down notes. Following the safekeeping methods the Flamels did, he utterly destroyed any wrong ones to prevent others from getting any clues about his research (Burning them, transmuting the ashes into something else, then crushing that into dust, before finally dispersing them around the garden was a bit much, but he did it anyway), while encoding and concealing the records of his discoveries.

Many times, he found himself marveling over how... how obvious some of the lessons were. Too much prana too quickly would damage, maybe shatter the crystal and release all the stored prana, just like the pressure of water going through a small hole was much stronger compared to that going through a larger aperture. His prana functioned through his will, and any disturbances in the latter would affect the former, possibly causing a rebound effect into his own body, which could be mild or severely damaging if not for the shields he had set up to protect himself. The best successes could be found when he maintained a proper flow of prana into the crystal, resonating his power with the crystalline structure; the stone would not only take in the prana at its most efficient level, but he could even make the material flow and shape according to his will. Mistakes soon turned to successes, and he could afford to spend less on his research.

However, he was still limited by the fact that only one circuit could be used in this field of magecraft, and despite it being able to channel a greater amount of prana compared to that of Archer's, it would eventually hit a limit and force Harry to rest (Archer knew when to stop him before he damaged it too badly). Still, he agreed with Archer that it would be a bad idea to create another magic circuit without anyone to help him, and promised to just stick to this rate of improvement; the pain involved was also another important factor in Harry's decision. He didn't feel like going through all that suffering anytime soon.

Harry also kept up his social life, doing so while he recovered from his experiments, writing letters or actually talking to his friends directly. He spent less time around Hermione, who displayed the fangirl attitude when the topic of Gilderoy Lockhart, as that personality simply irritated him, and she kept it up nearly all the time because of all the books. It at least distracted her from bothering him about Alchemy. Harry also went around the girls mentioning the 'rumor' he had heard about the secret hidden inside all of Lockhart's books, and sat back to watch them figure it out.

In addition, he spent the last three weeks visiting the others at their homes or meeting together outside. It perturbed him slightly to see The Burrow, the home of the Weasleys, when he visited the twins; the place looked like a piece of slapdash construction, so crookedly built that he could tell it was held up by magic without having to use Structural Analysis. It was hard to feel safe in that place, especially with all the explosions Fred and George set off with their own experiments, so he stayed outdoors most of the time. It was much more relaxing to visit Justin's opulent mansion, or Susan's manor, which rivaled Neville's in age and ancestry. But in every single case, Harry managed to learn new and interesting things about the lives of people around him, like Mr Weasley's tinkering with an enchanted car and the legal loophole that allowed him to do so.

On the overall, Harry did enjoy himself very much, and he was almost sad when the time came for him to return to Hogwarts. Unlike last year, his foster parents was the one to fetch him and Hermione to King's Cross Station, instead of her parents, so the young girl spent the night over at his place after a joint dinner between the two families.

They turned up quite early due to the adult couple's jobs, and Harry encountered Dobby's interference once again.

"It's closed." Hermione whispered, patting the solid brick wall. "I think we're too early."

Harry just stayed silent, glaring at the barrier. He could clearly smell the prana of a house elf on it, and it was easy enough to figure out who was behind it. Personally, Harry wasn't surprised that he hadn't been believed; Dobby knew that he was the sort of person to confront danger to protect his friends, and even mentioned it a few times, so it was natural that he would be on the lookout for Harry. But he had not taken something into account.

"Well, let's just wait, then." Harry shrugged and leaned on the side of the barrier.

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds, before doing the same.

The wizarding families began to build up as time passed, and eventually someone grew suspicious about why the barrier had been closed. In the end, Dobby was forced to release the lock lest he was discovered, and Harry boarded the train with no further problems.

Except one. _Archer... _Harry thought as he watched the Hogwarts Express begin to move.

_Yeah. Start searching the train. If Riddle's Box is to get into Hogwarts to carry out its plan, the most likely way would be through the students. Or rather, their luggage._

Making excuses, Harry left the compartment and ventured all the way to the back of the train, to the luggage area where some students stored their trunks instead of inside their compartments. It was a difficult task, trying to find Riddle's Box when he had no idea of what it looked like or what powers it had, but Harry was willing to try nonetheless. It took him several hours just to cover all the trunks, but he failed to discover anything that looked like it was dangerous, apart from typical wizarding prank items.

Pausing to grab a bit of food, Harry started to think about how he could get into the occupied compartments, when Draco found him and dragged him over to the rest of the Student Council to try and argue his ideas again. That was when Harry hit on the perfect plan, and Archer quickly modified it to work better; Harry proposed that the Council go around the various compartments to drum up support from the rest of the students. It was enough to convince even Draco, and they embarked on it immediately.

One of the modifications Archer made was to go around the compartments as a group, since there was no point in Harry visiting the same compartment that one of the other Council members had already been to. Thus, they started from the front of the train where Harry led the presentation to the Prefects.

It was a frighteningly slow process, as each group they talked to had their own questions about the Student Council and its duties, and the four members would hold quick discussions on what part of their initial presentation they had to modify before moving on the next group of people. In some cases, Harry had to take a back seat as House isolationism forced him to let one of the others talk, but it gave him the chance he needed to carry out the analysis.

Talking to the new first-years took even longer, as the non-magical-born students were deeply curious and asked all they could once they got over their shyness; Harry stepped on Draco's foot a few times to shut the other boy up and prevent him from breaking the friendly image they were projecting.

Harry found a few possible suspects, and noted them down for further investigation, but time ran out before the Council managed to cover the whole train, and he was forced to abandon his mission.

"Hi, Ginny." He greeted the youngest Weasley, who 'eeped' and turned really red. "You want to get off the train and follow Hagrid."

Ginny nodded furiously and slipped away, followed by a wide-eyed blonde with waist-length hair, who gazed back at Harry with a slightly disconcerting look. Harry couldn't help but stare back at the girl's odd appearance. She not only carried her wand tucked behind her left year, but she wore what looked like radishes for earrings, and a necklace made out of beer corks. Just as she was about to step off the train, she stopped and looked back at him.

"You're Harry Potter." She said.

"Yes. And you're?"

"Luna Lovegood." replied the girl, still maintaining that wide-eyed stare.

Harry wasn't really that bothered, but meeting it directly was difficult. "Nice to meet you. You better go, Hagrid's calling for the first-years."

"Yes, of course. Nice to meet you too, Harry Potter." Luna sounded dreamy, and her gaze drifted off in the most strange fashion. She seemed to float as she walked in the direction of the giant man's lantern.

"Harry! Hurry up!" He heard Hermione call from the opposite direction. "We're taking the carriages!"

"Coming!" Harry called back.

He was finally back at Hogwarts, but he didn't feel very reassured. And what was that oddly familiar smell of prana coming from the direction Luna Lovegood went off in?

* * *

Another chapter! Took a while to write this one out since I was distracted by reading other fanfics. Happened to me before; fanfics can be as bad as Tvtropes. Heck, some of the fanfic suggestions CAME from Tvtropes. Time-suckers, I tell you. And I've been through this before.

So Harry has found that his magic circuit can pour energy into gemstones, just like Rin. I'll be gradually developing his progress as the rest of the school year passes, though.

I'm really beating up on Dobby, it seems, but it was a little fun doing that.

Reviews, please!


	16. Fourth Curse

**Lord of Bones: Actually, I thought of that already. But just read on and see...**

* * *

As Harry entered the Great Hall and took a seat at the Gryffindor table with the rest of the students, nodding to his friends and acquaintances who greeted him as they split up, he brought up the memory of last year's sorting in his mind. He could still recall how he had followed Hagrid down to the lake, boarded a boat, then finally walking to reach the Great Hall. Checking his watch, Harry tried to estimate how much time it would take for the new students to arrive. Professor McGonagall was already absent from the table, which probably meant she was waiting for Hagrid to knock on the castle doors.

Time passed, and the volume gradually rose as the older students strove to maintain their individual conversations over those around them. Harry just kept talk to a minimum while he waited, watching the High Table as he did so. He also received the password to the Gryffindor dorms, passed down by the Prefects: wattlebird.

All the teachers he saw last year were there, save Quirrell and McGonagall; the former was obviously dead, replaced by a brightly smiling Lockhart, while the latter was seeing to the new students. Sure enough, the elderly witch came through the door, at the head of a line of boys and girls. Harry privately wondered about the difference in perspective; some of them looked scared from where he was sitting.

_You're just as small as some of them are. _Archer pointed out.

_Haha, very funny. _Harry thought back sarcastically, watching Professor McGonagall place the Sorting Hat on its stool.

Ignoring yet another weird song extolling the virtues of the four Houses, Harry occupied himself with trying to guess things about the new students, with Archer doing the same. Naturally, they started off with 'Pureblood, Halfblood, or Non-magical born?', using the children's expressions in response to the Sorting Hat as clues. It was also a good test of his memory to try and recall some of those he already met on the train, and with the exception of three or four of them, Harry was quite confident about his guesses. Once the song was done and the Hat did its bows to the four tables, Harry politely applauded before waiting for the next part.

As Professor McGonagall read names off her scroll and the students got sorted, Harry started to get a sinking feeling that increased every time a new Gryffindor joined the ranks, despite cheering along with the rest of his House. The reason was that some of the first-years wore expressions of awe as they sat at the table, and those expressions were directed at him. Especially that one Colin Creevey...

_Fangirls... but looks like you've got a fanboy. _Archer teased.

Harry bit his lips to stop himself from cursing and tried to focus on the remainder of the group.

He could see Archer's point when he talked about the breakdown between those who already knew about the magical world and those who didn't, as the number of the former overwhelmed the latter, due to the increase in population after Voldemort's first downfall. The reasoning was logical, except... Harry's eye twitched slightly as he stopped himself from reacting to Archer's insinuations about HOW those births came about.

It's one thing knowing what puberty entails, but actually accepting it was currently beyond Harry's ability.

Harry took a sniff as Luna Lovegood got sorted into Ravenclaw after two minutes, earning herself muted applause due to her odd sense of style; the house elf prana smell combined with the ambient magic already present made it hard for him to locate anything that might be the danger Dobby warned him about, but that odd smell did bother him; it was fainter here, but present nonetheless. He recognized it as the same one from Diagon Alley, but something else about it drew his attention.

_I'm _sure_ I smelled it before that time, but it seems... different, somehow. _Harry thought frustratedly. _Any idea what it is, Archer?_

_No, _replied the spirit, _But it might be Riddle's Box._

_It doesn't smell dangerous, though... _Harry thought back as he covered his nose to disguise a bigger sniff. _How do you know it's not a potion or something?_

_Hmph. I don't, but it looks like you haven't thought things through carefully. Listen carefully, Harry, _Archer spoke, _Sometimes the thing itself may be sufficiently concealed to avoid detection, even to your nose._

_But- _Harry wanted to say that it was impossible, only to have Archer continue on.

_In that case, there are other clues that might give away its existence. Take this smell for example, it might not be dangerous, but what if it's the smell of the magic that hides Riddle's Box?_

Harry frowned, his expression disguised amongst his fellow Gryffindors as Slytherin House received a new member. _I see... but we still don't know for sure._

_We don't. _Archer agreed. _But that doesn't mean you should discount it._

_Got it. I'll look into it._

Harry clapped while the four Weasleys cheered loudly, as their sister joined them at their table, and after the last student went into Hufflepuff, Albus Dumbledore stood up to open the feast.

"Welcome to all our new students, and to the rest of you, welcome back! And now, let us eat!" Dumbledore pronounced with a flourish, and food appeared on the dishes.

As Harry filled his plate with mashed potatoes and slices of pork, he kept his expression stiff, pretending that up and down the table, there weren't older students telling the new first-years about the boy with white hair sitting with them. He knew that it would draw attention, and naturally those in the know would scramble to tell about the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry's left hand twitched with the urge to slap his forehead as he overheard Parvati telling the young girl next to her about him.

It was a little difficult for him to keep track of what conversations were going on, as Harry ran through his mental list of what he intended to do with the free time at the start of the year. One of the topics he could hear was regarding Gilderoy Lockhart, lead primarily by Hermione, who sat next to him talking about what she read of the man's exploits. Sighing, Harry stepped on her foot to cut her off; at the way things were going, she would start intimidating the first-years with her knowledge. He got a smile of thanks in return once she realized his intentions, and Hermione toned down her speech so she answered more than dictated.

Harry didn't talk as much as he thought he should, given his thoughts were mainly focused on Riddle's Box. So far he had yet to smell anything different apart from that odd scent, but then again, he hadn't managed to search every trunk before the train finished its journey.

Cleaning off the last of the food on his plate, Harry picked up a goblet of water and listened to Ron Weasley talk about Quidditch with Seamus Finnigan. They were discussing several moves used by players, describing how it was like to pull those moves off personally. Harry thought back to the time when he visited the Burrow, and engaged in a few games with the family. A smirk tugged at his lips as he realized that Ron was exaggerating things slightly to make himself sound better.

Then Harry blinked. _Archer... I don't think Mr Weasley might be representative of the Ministry after all._

_Oh? _The spirit sounded too casual, setting off Harry's suspicions. _Why is that?_

_I'm not sure how to put it, but looking at the rest of his family... Ron likes to exaggerate, the twins like to play jokes, Percy is... well, ambitious. I just have a hunch that Mr Weasley is simply a bit scatterbrained._

_Looked at the obvious conclusion, didn't you? _Archer replied amusedly.

_Yea- wait, YOU were the one who led me to that conclusion! _accused Harry. _You thought the same too, didn't you!_

Archer hummed. _No I did not._

_Yes, you did! Don't try and act innocent, you were wrong that time! Admit it!_

But no matter how much Harry tried, Archer did not admit to anything, stating that it was a test of Harry's thinking and 'complimenting' him on finally realizing the trick. Hermione thought that he was having a stomachache due to the annoyance slipping through to his face. It was rare that Archer made a mistake, and Harry enjoyed getting one over the spirit in such cases. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times.

Because he had no real proof, and Archer simply kept denying it. He claimed it was a lesson to Harry not to let others lead his thinking away from the truth. Harry was annoyed, but even he had to admit that Archer meant well.

Dessert came and went, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet once more, causing the hall to fall silent.

"Now, for the usual start of the term notices. First, I'd like to introduce our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart!"

The man bounced to his feet, smiling toothily and winking as he waved down at them. Looking around, Harry caught sight of what he now called the 'fangirl look' on many of the girls' faces, while the boys were either indifferent or making nauseated expressions. He hid a smirk when he noticed a few of his friends, like Padma, studying Lockhart with suspicion.

Harry ground a knuckle into his thigh, trying to stay awake as Dumbledore gave 'stay out of the forest', 'banned item update', and 'school events' announcements that he assumed were repeated every year. He was feeling tired after going around the train all afternoon, but didn't want to miss anything important. However, Dumbledore didn't have anything else to say after those announcements. So he plugged his ears and put his head under the table while the rest of the school butchered the school song, only emerging when the twins were left doing their funeral march version. Shaking his head, Harry slipped his wand out of its holster, and made sure to look up at the High Table in an unspoken wish to be dismissed already.

"Ow!" "Ah!"

The entire hall burst out laughing as the twins suddenly yelped, interrupting their singing; they rubbed their legs and glared around them. Anyone could tell that somebody had hexed them, and it was easy to see why. But before they could do anything, Dumbledore dismissed them, and the students started getting to their feet, burying any demands for justice the twins could have made. Harry did notice Dumbledore wink in his direction, but didn't sense any Legilimency probe. He met Snape's eyes, and a sneer flashed across the man's face; his relationship with the Potions teacher was still the same, it seemed.

"Come on, Harry." Hermione urged, tugging on his sleeve.

Harry grunted and followed the crowd out of the hall, right behind the new fifth-year prefect leading the first-years. Five minutes of walking later, he hid a smirk, knowing that the boy leading the group was taking one of the shorter routes he had mapped out early on in his first year.

_Happy to see your effort paying off in others? _Archer asked.

_A little, _admitted Harry, _But I was thinking of selling more maps to the new students._

_Good thinking._

Harry blinked. _I get a compliment for that?_

_Don't get used to it. _

Unlike last year, they didn't run into Peeves, and made it to the Fat Lady's portrait without incident. Harry, Hermione and Neville waited patiently for the first-years to crawl through the portrait hole before following in after them. He signaled the prefect his intention to speak to the new students after the basic introduction, and the boy nodded. Harry waited, and finally got his turn. He noticed quite a few of the older students were watching as he stepped out in front of the crowd.

"Hello, all of you first-years. Most of you probably already know who I am, if not from the train, then from what you already know, or from what your friends have told you. But just in case, let me introduce myself again. I'm Harry Potter." He waited for the usual gasps and muttered explanations for those who surprisingly didn't know about him.

"Also, I'm the President of the Student Council of Hogwarts. To sum it up, we help to arrange and hold events that will help you become a part of life at Hogwarts, and enjoy it. However, right now we're only working with the second years and below." Harry paused, looking around at the faces, which included one heavily blushing Ginny Weasley, while receiving a few acknowledging nods from the third-years and above. "I can see you're all tired, so let me just say one last thing before you can go up and sleep."

"I'm sure most of you have difficulty remembering the way back to the Great Hall." Harry paused to scan their expressions. "As such, we'll be selling maps tomorrow morning, during breakfast - they'll aid you in getting around Hogwarts. That is all."

His speech done, Harry made his way over to where his friends were waiting, while the rest of the students drifted up to their rooms or started conversations with each other.

"That was a bit abrupt." Neville commented.

Harry shrugged, hearing the same from Archer. "I don't really like public speaking, and I haven't had much practice since the last time."

"So what sort of events are you going to be holding this year, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"One of the first ones is a introduction to Quidditch for the new students. We'll let them try out the spots on the team after they've had a few flying lessons." Harry replied. "We need to get approval from the teachers to set things up first, though." He suddenly yawned. "I'm tired. See you tomorrow, Hermione."

His friend nodded, then yawned as well. "Good night, Harry."

The room the boys in Harry's year were sleeping in was one floor lower than he recalled. When he walked in, he found Seamus and Dean talking softly in their pajamas, while Ron was already snoring in his bed. Nodding to the two boys, Harry frowned when he realized that their selection left him with the choice of a bed next to Ron or Seamus. He picked the latter choice; dragging his trunk over to the bed, he took out his pajamas and got changed, before climbing into the bed and drawing the curtains to hide himself.

Suddenly remembering, he stuck his head out through the curtains. "Night, Neville."

"Night, Harry."

But Harry didn't sleep. Under his top he was hiding his notebook, and now hidden from the eyes of his roommates, he took it out and lit his wand to see by. Uncapping his pen, he began to write.

**Things to do this year  
1. Find/Disable Riddle's Box  
2. Finish exploring the castle  
3. Study Black's motorbike further**

Harry paused. He learned quite a bit about enchanting non-magical machines to work the way they normally should thanks to Mr Weasley, who loved to talk about it, and he was looking forward to putting that new knowledge to good use. Except for one more thing.

**4. Research further into Black's case**

He had forgotten about the man entirely with the increased homework near the end of last year, then the events with the fake Stone, then studying with the Flamels. The suspicions he had about the entire thing came back in force now, and Harry was determined to uncover the truth.

Harry looked back over his short list, thinking. He didn't write down about his magecraft because he wanted to keep it a secret, but also because he didn't think he need a reminder for that. The same went for his magic and Alchemy.

Glancing at his watch, Harry decided to go straight to sleep. He planned on rising early to transfer his notes back to his secret room. Yawning, he took off his watch and put it under his pillow, before letting himself fall asleep.

* * *

During Harry's first morning back in the Great Hall, he kept interrupting his meal to approach the other members of the Student Council as they came in separately, to hand over the maps he had duplicated that morning with instructions on how to sell them. After handing over Draco's share, he went back to finally finish his meal.

"You're really busy with the Student Council, aren't you?" Hermione asked absently, her attention focused on the **Voyages with Vampires** propped open on the milk jug.

"Mm, yeah." Harry took his seat next to her and resumed eating.

Neville had arrived just recently, and he greeted Harry cheerfully from his position on Hermione's other side. Harry grinned back, taking note of the fact that Neville still had the round-faced look despite thinning slightly.

"Mail's due any minute - I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

Harry shook his head and told the boy, "You've got to start making lists, Neville. It helps you keep track of what's needed."

"I tried it before." Neville said glumly. "I ended up losing those lists."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he just reached around to pat the other boy on the back.

"Say, Hermione, did you manage to find the secret hidden in those books?" He indicated the book with a gesture of his spoon.

Hermione turned to eye him suspiciously. "Is there really a secret?"

"I _think_ so." His voice was innocent.

The bushy-haired girl gave him a hard look before turning back to her book with a huff.

"Um, excuse me?"

Harry turned around to see a pair of girls he recognized as first-years. "Ah, here to buy maps? They cost two Knuts each." He smiled.

They nodded and dug into their pockets for the money. "Could you... autograph them?" One of them asked, blushing.

Harry's smile froze. _Damn..._ "Okay..." He ignored the snickering behind him.

Archer's chuckling was harder to ignore. _At least you can drum up more support this way._

The rushing sound that preceded the owls soon came, and hundred or so owls streamed into the hall, circling the place and dropping letters on their targets. Neville, with Harry's warning, tried to catch the package meant for him, only for it to miss his hands and bounce off his head. Then Harry felt something land on his head, and paused in the act of reaching up for it. Looking around only using his eyes, he noticed that everyone was staring at him, some with smirks while others laughed.

"Very funny, Ilya."

A hoot came from the bird balanced on his head.

"You know, Harry, your owl really does blend in with your hair." Seamus commented.

"I bet." Harry angled his arm so that it was straight, and whistled softly.

Ilya fluttered off his head and onto the offered arm, which he lowered so she could get at the goblet he saved for her. Harry thought he heard somebody mutter 'whipped', but didn't know what it meant. He had a feeling that Archer did, but then again, Archer had loads more experience than he did.

"Mr Longbottom. Miss Granger. Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall walked by, handing out their schedules. "Mr Weasley. Mr Thomas. Mr Finnigan..."

"You know, I wonder why the teachers give each of us schedules when they're all the same." Neville observed.

"Practice for third year, when we start taking electives." Harry spoke before Hermione did. He noticed that she didn't seem too annoyed that he beat her to it - she was getting more and more used to him beating her.

She closed the book and scanned her own schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first. We better get moving."

Checking his watch, Harry saw that they didn't have that much time left, so he left a message with Ginny to tell her year-mates to look him up at lunch if they wanted a map. Seeing her squeak and knock her bowl of porridge to the floor, he shook his head and sighed. He still had a long way to go with the girl.

As he approached the upper floors, Harry noticed that the odd prana smell grew stronger. It was strongest on the sixth and seventh floors, but he still could not narrow it down to a specific location. Gryffindor tower smelt just as strongly as the area near Ravenclaw tower. It would take time to search the entire area - Harry decided to plan out a search route.

But first he had class to go to. Harry collected the books he needed for the morning's classes and left the castle with Hermione and Neville. As they neared the greenhouses, they saw that most of the Hufflepuffs were already there, and Harry took the opportunity to approach Hannah.

"How's the map sales?"

"Every first-year bought one." She reported. "When are we going to meet to discuss things?"

"Lunch, I guess?"

"That's okay with me." Hannah scrutinized him. "Tell the others when we see them?"

Harry nodded.

Professor Sprout turned up shortly after Ron, Seamus and Dean arrived. Harry blinked; the witch looked slightly cleaner than usual - previously she would have a large amount of earth on her clothes. This time, he thought he could actually see the original green dye of the cloth, though her fingernails were just as grubby as he recalled. Harry guessed that it was just an issue of seeing her before classes actually began. Then he spotted Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed immaculately in turquoise robes, complete with hat over his golden locks. Harry instantly pulled out his hat and covered his white hair, earning himself a few curious looks from his peers.

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who wore a disgruntled expression on her face instead of her usual cheerful one.

There was an interested murmur, as they've only been in Greenhouse one before, apart from Neville. Greenhouse three was filled with more interesting and more dangerous plants. Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry was sure he could break past the defenses on that lock if he really wanted to. As he led the crowd in, he noticed Lockhart looking around at them, and quickly sped inside before the man's gaze reached him.

Like with Greenhouse one, the place smelled of damp earth and fertilizer, but there were other smells as well - a heavy perfumed scent coming from the umbrella-sized flowers hanging from the ceiling, several sickly sweet smells that seemed dangerous somehow, and beneath it all, a much stronger scent of prana that indicated the higher level of natural magic in the plants here.

"Place your summer homework in the tray over there, then gather around that bench."

The old witch strode over to a trestle bench where approximately twenty pairs of ear muffs in different colors were, and the students obediently crowded around in front of it after depositing the requested homework into the indicated tray.

"We'll be repotting mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of mandrakes?"

Harry grimaced, realizing he hadn't revised his Herbology. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione looking around waiting for someone else to answer first, before finally raising her hand.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative." She recited, sounding as though she was reading directly from the textbook (She most likely was, Harry recalled). "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent, ten points to Gryffindor." Sprout nodded to Hermione. "The mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

This time there were three hands that went up, and one of them Neville's. "The cry of an adult mandrake kills anyone who hears it." The boy answered. "Younger mandrakes won't kill, but will knock out the listener for several hours instead."

"Precisely, take another fifteen points for the answer and the additional fact." Sprout pointed over to a row of deep trays. "Now, the mandrakes we have here are still very young."

The group of students shuffled closer for a better look. Around a hundred small purplish-green plants were growing in the trays, looking quite unremarkable. However, Harry noted that their prana smells were one of the strongest in the room, and it hinted slightly of death.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs." instructed Sprout.

There was a slight scramble as the students tried to get a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy. Harry snagged a red pair and inspected them - it would cut sound off very effectively.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right, earmuffs on."

Harry and his friends snapped their earmuffs on, and found that they shut out sound completely. Sprout put on the pink, fluffy pair and looked around to check that they all were wearing their earmuffs securely. Seeing that they were, she rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the plants firmly and pulled hard.

Instead of the roots Harry was expecting, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out instead. The leaves turned out to have been growing from his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling as hard as he could. Harry sneezed as the prana smell increased threefold.

Sprout reached down under the table and took out a large plant pot, which she plunged the mandrake into, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the leaves were visible. She then dusted off her hands before giving them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As Mr Longbottom said, our mandrakes are only seedlings, so their cries won't kill yet," She spoke calmly as though she had watered a non-magical plant rather than repot a potentially deadly one. "But they _will_ knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up."

"Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething." Sprout rattled off, then sharply slapped the spiky dark red plant that had been sneaking long feelers over her shoulder, making it draw them back.

Harry glanced at his friends as he took off his watch and stuck it into an inner pocket. "Split up?"

Hermione shrugged and went over to join Hannah and Susan, while Harry and Neville were joined by Justin and Zacharias Smith.

Harry shook hands with Justin. "Hi guys. Had a good summer, Smith?"

"It was okay." grunted the boy. "Let's go."

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" Justin said happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books yet? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - ZAP - just fantastic."

"It is a smart idea to take cover in a booth, though risky. You can't outrun a werewolf, but it takes guts to actually use yourself as bait."

The other three boys stared at Harry. "Woah, you sounded really cool, Harry. Are you going to become a wizarding policeman in the future?"

"Auror." corrected Smith.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno."

"Anyway, Mother's no longer so disappointed about me not making it into Eton once I made her read Lockhart's books..." Justin continued to chatter on.

There wasn't much chance to talk after that. With their earmuffs on, they had to focus on the mandrakes. Professor Sprout made it look easy, but it wasn't. Harry didn't have any problem pulling them out of the tray once he realized the leaves on their head could take quite a bit of force, but plunging them into the new pot was a different matter; the mandrakes expressed their dissatisfaction with the repotting by thrashing with every bit of strength they had, like the worst possible baby anyone could have. Harry eventually found a way to repot them quickly by flicking them in the forehead and squashing them into the pot before they could recover.

By the end of the class, every single one of them was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. They made their way back to the castle at a hasty pace for a quick wash, and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration. Harry felt a bit lucky that he did manage to recall quite a bit of his notes on the class, as Professor McGonagall started off with a particularly hard spell that required him to turn a beetle into a button. It was made harder by the fact that the beetle refused to stay still on the desk, until Harry grabbed a stick of glue from his bag and stuck the beetle to a piece of paper. The idea saw a lot of use among the rest of his classmates, and he earned a few points for it.

By the time the lunch bell rang, Harry managed to master the spell enough to cast with sufficient speed and accuracy to Transfigure five moving beetles with five spells in quick succession. It earned him a reprieve from the homework the rest of the students received, and he received a number of jealous looks as they filed out of the class. Hermione also got a few of her own when she wanted to compare the handful of buttons she had produced to his. Needless to say, Harry's were more varied and had several eye-catching designs.

"To me, a button is simply a small disk with a few holes in the center." He explained as they walked down to the Great Hall. "Imagine a Galleon or a Sickle, those have designs on them. I just copied some designs I've seen before."

He picked out a rather large button and flipped it over to Neville, who held it up to let those around them see that it closely resembled a Galleon, save for the thread holes and material.

"Hermione, what do we have this afternoon?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." The girl replied instantly.

"Why," Ron broke in, looking from over her shoulder, "Have you outlined all of Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione quickly thrust her schedule into her bag, blushing furiously, but the Gryffindors heard, and started teasing her lightheartedly. Harry kept an eye on the girl, but she didn't have any problems defending herself from the verbal jabs. It also helped that Parvati and Lavender were Lockhart fangirls as well.

Lunch was a quiet affair, and the four members got together in their Council Room afterwards.

"Every one of the new students bought a map." Su reported.

Harry nodded. "All but two for me, while Hannah got all. What about you, Draco?"

The Slytherin boy gave him a 'what do you think?' look. "All the first-years, of course."

Harry took out a jar, with the Knuts from the Gryffindor map sales inside. "This marks the start of our Student Council funds then."

The other three dropped their share of the proceeds into the jar, and Harry put it aside in favor of a list of the proposed events for the year.

"So let's deal with the first event. A introduction to Quidditch." Harry glanced at the list and put it down on the desk. "First, how many flying lessons before it's safe?"

"Three." All of them chorused, then looked amongst themselves before grinning.

"Okay," Harry said, still smiling. "So third weekend after their first flying lesson it is. That's around early October. Draco, the teacher-in-charge is...?" He left the question hanging.

"Hooch. We also need to inform the Heads of House that we're booking the Quidditch pitch for that day." Draco glanced at Su, who was writing down what they needed to do. "But what about the brooms?"

Their expressions became uncertain - the school brooms were in poor quality. It was Hannah who provided the solution.

"I'm sure we can get the Quidditch teams to lend theirs for the time being? If I ask Grayson - he's the Hufflepuff captain - I'm sure he'll pitch in to help."

Draco shook his head. "Flint won't, not for anyone."

"Then just the Hufflepuffs." Harry decided. "I'm sure Oliver will be only too happy to help. Guy's a-"

"Quidditch fanatic." The other three finished. Oliver Wood became well-known to all of them by time Christmas came around in the first year; there was no one who could match his enthusiasm for the sport.

"We need to raise more funds if we want better equipment, honestly speaking. But for now, let's just work with what we've got."

Harry quickly divided the responsibilities among the members - he and Draco would go propose the idea to Dumbledore, Hannah would set things up with the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, while Su would go book the field and equipment for use that day. That settled, they split up for their next classes, Harry and Draco agreeing to go see the Headmaster after dinner that very day.

Harry managed to catch up with the rest of the Gryffindors shortly before they reached the Defense classroom. He checked that he had all the required books - later he would have to find a way to pass them over to Su before her class. He entered the class just behind Hermione, but Lockhart spotted him straight away despite trying to hide behind the stack of books in his hands.

"Ah, Harry! I see you've got my books!" The man's voice set Harry's teeth on edge, but he did his best not to let it show.

"Yes, Professor, thank you very much for them. Hermione was very helpful in passing them over to me." _Share in my fate... _His mental voice muttered a bit maliciously.

"Yes, of course. Miss Granger is such a wonderful friend. Wonderful indeed!"

Unfortunately, Hermione didn't feel the same way as Harry, as she blushed and stuttered in face of Lockhart's attention. At least it gave Harry the chance to slip away and take a seat at the back of the room, where he placed the books with the covers facing away from him so he only had to look at a single face rather than eight of them.

_What's his secret, I wonder? Are you watching, Archer?_

_Hm, of course I am. Just don't act like Hermione._

Harry blanched at that thought. _Damn you for putting that image in my mind!_

He heard Archer laughing as the rest of the class took their seats. Hermione took the front seat in front of Lockhart, while Neville took the one in front of Harry, with the other boys sitting around them. Once all the students were seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly, causing them to fall silent. The man reached forward and picked up Hermione's copy of **Voyages with Vampires**, and held it up to show his own winking portrait on the front.

"Me," Lockhart said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

Harry wasn't surprised to see the joke fail; only a few people smiled uncertainly.

Lockhart wasn't discouraged. "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books. Well done! I thought we'd start today with a little quiz." Still smiling, Lockhart picked up the stack of test papers on his desk and went around handing them out, giving winks to the girls and making them swoon. "Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them - how much you've taken in..."

When he had handed out the test papers, he went back to the front of the class and gave the order to start.

Harry scanned the paper and almost groaned out loud. Part of him wasn't surprised to encounter questions that dealt with the man rather than his 'courageous' deeds, after reading those wastes of paper that were Lockhart's books. What had his favorite color, secret ambition, or birthday had to do with defending oneself from the Dark Arts?

_Archer, I'm REALLY starting to dislike this guy... He reminds me too much of those pretty boys in some of those fiction books I read before._

_Not surprising. The question is which type he is._

_Which type? _Harry started writing down answers to the questions; he didn't want to take it seriously, but he at least wanted to keep up the appearance of a good student.

_Let's just say that some pretty boys are useless fops who only know how to look good while pretending they are strong, while others truly are strong, just that they may hide it. _(1)

Harry nodded, comprehending what Archer was telling him. _So it's whether his strength is the real one or not. But he wrote about all those things he did... or said he did... I think I got a new tiem to add to my list of things to do this year._

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them at the front of the class.

"Tut, tut... hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in **Year with the Yeti**."

_Not all of us know the different shades of violet._ Harry thought. It was mildly satisfying to think comebacks, even if he couldn't say it.

"And a few of you need to read **Wanderings with Werewolves** more carefully, I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples... though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!" Lockhart gave them another roguish wink.

Harry looked around. Ron had disbelief etched on his face; Seamus and Dean were shaking with silent laughter; he himself wanted to beat the guy up. Somehow he just _knew_ that Lockhart wasn't serious about that ideal, and that was an insult to Harry's dream of becoming a hero.

_Besides, something like THAT doesn't come from a gift! One has to work for it!_ He could feel Archer's agreement resound in his head.

"...but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid to world of evil and market my own range of hair-care products - good girl! In fact..." Lockhart flipped her paper over. "Full marks! Excellent, Miss Hermione Granger, quite excellent!"

_Calm down, Harry,. _Archer urged, feeling his host clenching his fists tightly. _Not in front of everyone._

_So I can beat him up as long as no one catches me? _Harry growled.

"Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so... to business..." Lockhart bent down behind his desk and lifted a large covered cage onto it.

"Now... be warned!" Lockhart spoke in a dramatic tone that carried throughout the room. "It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know that no harm can befall you... whilst I am here. All I ask... is that you remain calm."

_He does have a way with words... _Harry noted down on a piece of parchment, before looking up as Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Around him, the students were tense; Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing, while Neville shrunk back slightly.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

Harry instantly Reinforced himself. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Then Lockhart whipped off the cover, and the tension in the room evaporated almost immediately.

"Yes," The man said dramatically, "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus Finnigan let out a snort of laughter that no one could mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" Lockhart smiled.

"Well, they're not- they're not very, dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" Lockhart waggled a warning finger. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

Harry studied the pixies, not relaxing his Reinforcement. They were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and shrill voices that sounded like budgies arguing. When Lockhart had removed the cover, the pixies were agitated, and they were now rocketing around the cage, rattling the bars and making faces at those closest to them.

_I have a bad feeling about this. _Harry quickly stuffed his things into his bag, books and stationery.

_You're right to think so. _Archer warned. _Their speed and strength are high for creatures of their size, and there are many of them. Be careful._

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And the man opened the cage.

_You stupid, damn fool. _Harry and Archer both thought, just before pandemonium exploded.

The pixies burst out of the cage in every direction like a canned drink shaken to its maximum. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air, while several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreak havoc in the classroom...

Or tried to.

Harry and Archer moved faster than the pixies. Before the broken glass could touch Harry's body, he was already leaping out of his seat, and struck the two carrying Neville with powerful finger flicks that sent them crashing into the ceiling, and causing their captive to drop back down. Landing on Neville's desk, Harry grabbed a book in each hand and smacked two more away into the walls.

"Keep them down!" Harry screamed. "Don't let them move at all!"

As if they had been broken out of a spell, the rest of the class started to fight back as well. Parvati and Lavender shrieked and slapped at the pixies that came near them, Fay grabbed her bag and used it as a rather effective club, Hermione began to fire Freezing Charms. The boys grabbed and punched whatever they could, even throwing their books; Neville actually managed to lay one out with a flung **Year with the Yeti** that squashed its target against a pillar, while Ron battered a pair into the desk with **Break with a Banshee**. Within seconds, they had the pixies stalled and wary of coming any closer.

Harry was the one doing the most work, as the pixies started focusing on him as the main threat. He was a blur of motion as he swung, kicked and threw things to knock the pixies down where his classmates could get them, or disabling those that managed to dodge out of his friends' range. Some of them managed to grab things of their own, but Harry deftly disarmed them with Stinging Hexes before they could do anything with what they had.

"Hermione! Freeze them! Rest of you! Do the same!" He rapped out. "Someone get the damn cage!"

Fay and Lavender grabbed the cage off Lockhart's desk and brought it closer to Hermione, who froze the captured pixies the boys brought them while Parvati stuffed the frozen ones back into captivity. Dean was able to perform the Freezing Charm as well, and working together as a group, they managed to get over half the remaining pixies before the rest of them began to target the two casters. However, the other students fended off the pixies, giving Harry the chance to pick the pixies off when they dodged the initial clumsy attack.

In the end, all the pixies save those that escaped the classroom in the beginning were back in the cage, which Hermione sealed up magically. Harry let the books he was carrying fall, breathing heavily as the rest of the class stared at him, panting from the high tension situation they just went through. Most of them were looking at him with awe, but his friends grinned tiredly. His gaze drifted over to Lockhart, who was staring at him openmouthed. Lockhart had done nothing but stood there during the entire time, and Harry noticed that the man's turquoise robes had a very large ink stain over the front.

"Uhh... ahem!" Lockhart cleared his throat and put on a twitching smile as the rest of the class turned to look at him. "Well done! Well done, all of you! I could have done it faster myself, but I wanted to give you all some practical experience, of course..."

Harry could see that all of the boys didn't believe that statement in the least, and some of the girls were doubtful. But no one said anything as Lockhart continued to speak.

"Five points for each one of you... and an extra five to Mr Potter for taking control! Excellent, Harry, I'm sure you'll become a great wizard in the future!"

_Not like you, that's for sure. _Harry turned around and grabbed his bag from where he had left it.

The bell rang and the boy stalked out without a word to anyone else as they watched him leave, too shocked to say anything. His friends managed to keep the rest from asking too many questions about how Harry could move like that, but it was amazing how many of them believed him when he gave the excuse that it was all due to his physical training.

By dinnertime, word had spread about Lockhart's first cool class, and everyone was eagerly reading up on spells so they could do the same when it was their turn. The third-year Slytherins that had their class after the second-year Gryffindors weren't as lucky as their predecessors; there were noticeable absences from their table at dinner, and the rumors ranged from embarrassment at being doused in ink to severe concussions that merited a stay in the Hospital Wing.

Not that Harry cared much. He just had a rather difficult time giving a presentation to Dumbledore about the Quidditch Introduction event the Student Council was planning, and had finally gotten permission to go through with it. He was currently headed back to the Council room with Draco to inform the girls of the news, when he nearly ran into someone who suddenly appeared from around the corner. Harry nearly performed a takedown on the person, if not for Archer stopping him.

"Alright, Harry?" A mousy-haired boy Harry recognized as one of his House's first-years spoke to him while clutching a ordinary camera, shrinking slightly as Harry glowered. "I'm, I'm Colin Creevey." He took another step backwards. "I'm in Gryffindor, too... D'you think - would it be alright if - can I have a picture?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Draco smirking and opening his mouth to say something. He quickly snapped his leg up and to the side to hit the blonde in the butt, shutting Draco up before he could say anything.

"A picture?" Harry repeated slowly.

_Watch your temper, Harry. _Archer warned.

"So I can prove I've met you," Colin Creevey edged forward now, encouraged by the question. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who-"

"Who?" Harry interrupted, not letting his lips show a smirk.

"You-Know-Who! The bad guy who tried to kill you!"

"Sorry, I don't know who." Harry said in a flat tone, kicking Draco again to stop him from speaking.

Colin faltered, then assumed that Harry just didn't want to talk about it and changed the subject. "A boy in my dormitory said... if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement. "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you-"

Harry shot a sharp look at Draco, who had started frowning when Colin revealed his ancestry.

Colin was now wearing a hopeful look as he stared at Harry. "Maybe you friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

Suddenly, Harry didn't like the gleeful smirk on Draco's face. It hinted at sadistic humor and spoke of payback.

"Certainly. I assume that camera works the same way as a wizarding one?" Draco said smoothly, moving forward and causing Harry's side butt-kick to miss.

Colin nodded eagerly. "Just look through the viewfinder and press the button."

Harry saw no other way out of this, and could tell that Draco was thinking the same. "Okay then, let's get this over with quick."

He grabbed Colin and stood the boy next to him, then put on a fake-looking smile. No, he decided, a real smile would be better. A smile... of vengeance on the blonde currently holding that camera.

Draco took the photo, and Colin sped off with it quickly afterwards. Harry noticed the Slytherin's smile turn into a sneer once the other boy was far away.

"Got something against his bloodline?"

Draco grunted.

Harry shrugged. "Well, as long as you can control yourself..."

Hermione's case was an initial step, but Harry didn't feel like risking another wager with Draco just yet. And oddly, when he looked carefully at the other boy, Harry sensed that Draco's viewpoint had regressed to what it was before the summer. It looked like he would be spending the year trying to overcome it once more.

* * *

"Quill start. Fourth of September, nineteen ninety-two." Harry dictated to the quill on the desk behind him as he sat on the floor. "First attempt at releasing prana from its stored crystals, using a single garnet. Attempted spell is fire element-related. Quill pause."

In his experiments with Jewel Magecraft, Harry had found that the quality of the crystal would affect not only its capacity to hold prana, but the length of time the charge would remain as well. Since the only type of crystals he had bought were rather poor in quality as he had been restricted by his funds, any crystal he filled with prana would eventually go back to their uncharged state in a matter of hours. He also hadn't tried to perform any spells with the charged gems as he had been wary of accidentally breaking down the bounded field with the power of the stored energy. Another reason was that he had no idea HOW to even cast a spell with said energy, and neither did Archer. Thus, this was the first time Harry would try using a gem.

The gem lying in the charging array before him was a rough garnet the size of a Knut. It had two flaws inside, and probably wouldn't have been recognizable as such if not for the red color, making it one of the worst crystals in his inventory. There was a visible spark in its center, a sign of the prana he had just poured into it moments earlier, but it was very faint, and Harry could smell the hot prana leaking from it at a rapid rate, marking it as being linked to the fire element.

Harry picked up the stone, and flicked it into the shielded box he prepared for the experiment with a murmured phrase and a jolt of prana through his single circuit. Just in case, he also ducked down behind the Reinforced glass pane he transmuted from sand.

The stone bounced on the bottom of the box twice before coming to a halt, with none of the explosive effect Harry was expecting.

Frowning, Harry came out from behind his shield and retrieved the garnet. "Quill resume. Attempt failed with no observed effect. Prana is still present within the stone and leaking out at the recorded rate. Stone will be recharged and attempted again with a spell of a different element. Quill pause."

Minutes later, the frown was even more pronounced as he charged the gem for the fifth time. None of the spells had worked, and the evidence of that was recorded down by his quill. Harry was tempted to burn that paper already. It didn't help that the magic circuit he was using was near its limit.

_Why isn't it working? By rights, saying the incantation and releasing the energy should do the trick. Yet it doesn't work. Maybe I'm doing something wrong..._

_Or maybe the normal method doesn't work for you? _Archer suggested. _By rights, I shouldn't exist in your body either._

Harry blinked. _Oh yeah, I forgot about that. This is troublesome..._

"Quill resume. Decided to abandon the typical method of releasing energy." Harry paused for a moment as he contemplated what to say. "New attempt is to release all the energy at once in an overload. Quill pause."

He wasn't really sure about the method to perform that, but countless failures had taught him that unlike typical Reinforcement, pouring prana into a gem sent them to fill certain pathways within the crystal structure that made up the 'Crest' within the gem, like water filling up storage tanks. As more energy filled that 'Crest', it would adapt to the inflow and be strengthened, unless the amount of prana was too much for the gem to take at once. Following that logic, rupturing those pathways would release the tinted prana.

Ducking down behind the glass, Harry Reinforced his hand first, then sent a large burst of prana into the garnet and quickly flinging it into the box before withdrawing his hand back behind cover.

The box shattered as a fiery explosion ripped it open from the inside, the splinters tearing through the protections on it and bouncing off the glass. Harry winced, thankful that Archer had warned him ahead of time to wear earplugs. Coughing at the smoke, he took out his wand and proceeded to extinguish the burning scraps, then casting several air-purifying charms to clear away the smoke, thankful that Professor Flitwick had taught them the latter spell just this morning. Once that was done, he began inspecting the test area carefully.

"Quill resume." Harry coughed again. "Attempt successful. Box and protections were destroyed in a fire explosion. Secondary barrier was not penetrated. Minute traces of the stone remain, but overall it has been destroyed. Power level estimated to be..." Harry paused to listen to Archer. "E."

_Compared to that Caladbolg, this is rather weak, isn't it? _Harry shrugged. _But then again, the crystal itself wasn't really that great in the first place. It's still quite a large gap in power though._

_Actually, _Archer interrupted, _The rating system for Noble Phantasms isn't the same as the one for normal magecraft. _

_Oh. It's hard to do this on my own. Well, not really on my own, since I've got you, Archer, but you know what I mean. _Harry suddenly twitched as he got a tingling feeling at the back of his brain. _Damn!_

"Quill end!"

Harry rolled up the charging array and tucked it into his robe. Next, he grabbed up the quill and his notes as well, and put them away in another pocket. Activating his magic circuits, he took down the bounded field around the room. Harry then picked up his Invisibility Cloak off the floor where he left it, and threw it over himself. Now invisible, he stepped into the far corner, just as the door swung open to reveal Snape. The man's eyes swept across the room, before he stepped in slowly.

_Did he detect the release of magic in this room? _Harry wondered. _He couldn't have - the boundary fields shouldn't have let any trace through._

_Good thing you put up the detection fields at the intersections leading here, wasn't it? _Archer said with some amusement.

_I'd agree, but I don't really see what's so humorous about this. _Harry slowly slid around the Potions teacher, taking care to remain silent. He tensed up when Snape drew his wand out from a black sleeve.

"_Homenum Revelio._" Snape muttered.

Harry wasn't worried about being detected; under the Cloak, his ability to smell prana was numbed, but it also meant that he was concealed from the Human Revealing Charm Snape cast. Sure enough, Snape's lips twisted unpleasantly, meaning he received a negative response from his Charm. Harry watched Snape approach the remains of his experiment. The remains of the box had nothing that could trace back to him, and he doubted anyone would notice the miniscule garnet fragments without a spell. With the man's attention focused on the sooty marks remaining from the blast, Harry took the chance to slip out the door and head back to his workshop (disabling the detection field along the way), where a whispered password gained him access and allowed him to drop off his stuff. After that, he made his way back to Gryffindor tower, taking advantage of the Fat Lady's drowsy state to get past her.

Minutes later, his body was lying in bed while his awareness was inside Archer's world.

"Guess I've got to find a new place to carry out the big experiments now." Harry remarked as he hefted the twin swords Archer Traced for him.

The spirit nodded, his own hands carrying the two weapons he usually wielded, and they began to spar. While their blades clashed repeatedly, Harry's thoughts went back to the earlier situation.

Harry's brand of Jewel Magecraft differed slightly from Archer's experience with it; with the results of tonight's experience, the things he could do with gems had risen up to four: filling it with energy, drawing out energy to empower himself (which he could do, but only rarely due to prana leakage), altering the gem structure, and finally, using it as an explosive. But it rankled that he couldn't use them the way Archer told him about or to perform the spells in the magecraft books. If anything, this taught him that he was on his own with it; neither the books, nor Archer's knowledge had been able to help him so far, and he doubted they would.

The past two days hadn't been easy for his school life either. Harry had certainly not expected the extent of Colin's obsession with him; the mousy-haired boy practically _thrived_ on greeting him four or five times a day and getting Harry to acknowledge him back. Harry had a feeling Colin managed to find out the second-years' schedule, and with the map the first-year bought, found the right places to lie in wait for him, and even waited outside the Student Council room once. Harry was certain that if not for the Marauder's Map, he would be running into Colin much more often. As it were, he was forced to waste some time taking detours to avoid Colin, and just this morning, he found Colin waiting in the common room after practicing his archery when he checked the Map on a whim. Not wanting the boy to find out about his morning training and follow him there as well, Harry chose to keep his bow in his secret workshop instead.

Gilderoy Lockhart was also another nuisance who liked to focus on Harry. The few times Harry had encountered the man outside of class, he heard more than he would have liked about fan letters, autograph and photo-taking sessions, and whatnot. Harry took some solace in the fact that only the sixth- and seventh-years managed to overcome the Cornish Pixie test (and only barely), which often resulted in Lockhart getting a taste of the chaos he himself caused and prevented the fop from seeking Harry out more than he already had.

On the overall, he wasn't making much headway in his to-do list. Harry managed to cover only a quarter of the sixth floor during that time, but the homework load was beginning to pile up, and he had no idea how long it was before Riddle's Box would take effect. It didn't help things that the prana smell had started spreading around the school, indicating that someone was carrying the source around. More than once, Harry cursed whatever spell it was that diffused the prana scent in a wide area and made his task to locate it much harder.

Oliver had agreed to participating in the Quidditch Introduction plan, especially once Harry hinted that they might get an idea of who to look out for in the first-years. Talking to the older boy also reminded Harry about Quidditch training, which would take away his free time to work on his magic, magecraft and Alchemy. He hoped it wouldn't start up too early this year, but something about Oliver's expression didn't make him feel too good about his chances.

As for Sirius Black's case, Harry was intending to question Hagrid more on it when he visited the gamekeeper during the weekend to get at the motorcycle again. While his schedule still had free periods, he still hadn't gotten used to the timings yet, thus he put off on visiting the giant man until Saturday afternoon, which was tomorrow (or technically today). He sent Ilya out to notify Hagrid just yesterday, and had already received a positive response.

Harry ducked under the white blade and knocked aside the booted heel, before stabbing at the exposed trunk, only to have his weapon parried by a black blur. Then a heavy blow slammed into his side and sent him flying. Harry tumbled across the dusty ground, but managed to come to his feet with his guard up.

"You're distracted." Archer told him bluntly.

Harry nodded and rushed back in again, this time focusing entirely on scoring a strike on Archer. As usual, he failed to achieve that objective.

When Harry woke up on Saturday, it wasn't the peaceful way he expected. The moment he felt somebody grab his shoulder, Harry threw his blanket over the person and rolled out of bed, grabbing his wand from the bedside table and aiming it at the unexpected person. A quick glance around the room at the other beds told him that whoever the person thrashing under the blanket was, it wasn't any of his roommates.

"Puha!" The blanket finally slipped off to reveal a rumpled Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "Glad to see you're so active, Harry. Point that somewhere else, will you?" Oliver said cheerfully, referring to the wand Harry kept trained on him.

"What the heck are you doing here, Oliver?" Harry hissed, annoyance evident in his tone.

Oliver paused, finally realizing that Harry wasn't in the mood to be trifled with. "Quidditch practice." He said cautiously.

Harry kept his wand raised for a few seconds more, before lowering it with a sigh. "I was planning to visit Hagrid later this afternoon..." He muttered. "How long?"

"Huh?"

Harry sighed again. "What's involved? Flying practice? Training explanation? Drills?" Outside the window, he could see the sun just starting to peek over the mountains.

"A whole new training program - I thought it up over the summer - then we'll be practicing them after I'm done explaining." Oliver replied, excitement mounting in his voice.

Harry gripped his wand a bit harder, causing it to shoot out red sparks. "And why didn't you tell us about this last night...?"

The other boy didn't notice. "It's part of our new training program. None of the other teams have started training yet, and we're sure to be first off the mark this year!"

Harry eyed the beaming teenager standing on the opposite of the bed from him. If he had been told about this beforehand, maybe he might not be so annoyed, but who could tell?

_Well, morning training is good for you. _Archer's cheerful voice only irritated Harry further, and he took it out on Oliver with a Stinging Hex.

"Ow! What was that for, Harry?" Oliver rubbed his chest where the spell had struck.

"That's for not informing us of this beforehand." Harry told him, and went to get his Quidditch robes out of his trunk. "Next time, tell us about this, or I'll set Fred & George on you."

"Okay, okay..." Oliver said sulkily. "Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes."

"Screw that." Harry retorted, his temper causing cracks in his vocabulary. "I'll be down in five."

"How d'you-" The teenager shut his mouth when Harry glowered at him. "R-right, see you there."

Fighting a yawn, Harry got changed, wrote a note for Neville, and left the tower by flying out the window in the common room. As he did, he heard someone else come down the stairs, making a loud clatter, but he ignored it and flew straight for the Quidditch pitch. It was against the rules, but Harry didn't really feel like caring right then.

He spotted five people dressed in red walking towards the pitch, and silently descended down to meet them outside the changing room. "Morning, guys."

"Morning, Harry..."  
"Morning..."  
"M-WAAAA~" Katie yawned. "Morning."  
"How did you..."  
"...get down so fast?"

Harry covered a yawn of his own. "Flew."

The twins grinned tiredly at him, while the girls filed into the changing room first. Harry looked around at the rest of the Gryffindor team. The twins had bed hair and puffy eyes, while Alicia Spinnet was nearly asleep on her feet. The remaining two Chasers, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, kept yawning back and forth.

"Oliver woke you guys up too, huh?"

Those alert enough to respond nodded, brief looks of annoyance flashing across their faces.

Harry frowned. "Wait... I thought boys can't get up the girls side."

The girls froze, then frowned as his words sunk in. "That's right..." Angelina said thoughtfully. "Then how did he...?"

Oliver burst into the room at that point, hefting a large diagram of a Quidditch field. "Hi there, team! I've got this new _great_ training program-"

"Oliver, would you first answer a question for us?" Angelina asked in a deceivingly sweet voice.

"Sure! What is it?" The youth had no idea of what laid in store.

Moments later, the twins sat on either side of Harry watching the girls fire spells at a dodging Oliver. The three of them took note of the fact that it was possible to avoid triggering the alarm on the stairs by flying over them with a broomstick; Harry saw it as a reminder of wizarding linear thinking, the twins saw it as an aid to their pranking... and something else that Archer refused to tell Harry about.

"I'm awake now." Fred said.  
"So am I." George agreed.

Both of them had beatific smiles on their faces.

After the girls' anger had ran its (initial) course, the team overrode Oliver on explaining the new plays he had come up with in favor of a tune-up training, where the Chasers launched a fierce offensive on Oliver while he tried to defend the hoops. Harry was glad to finally get the chance to truly let loose on a broom, and executed several flying maneuvers to avoid the Bludgers Fred and George sent his way. With his experience taking on Archer, he could tell whenever they were trying to herd him into a position where they could hit him, and frustrated them by slipping away before they could tighten the net.

After fifteen minutes, they switched things up; it became Harry and Oliver versus the rest. Harry attempted to disrupt the Chasers through a combination of aggressive flying and Bludger-leading while the twins targeted him and Oliver. They switched back after another fifteen minutes, before Oliver released the Snitch.

Harry caught it within three minutes, spotting it hovering under Fred's broom.

Then George suddenly pointed down at the field. "Hey look! What are the Slytherins doing here?"

Everyone turned to look in the indicated direction, and Harry saw several people in green robes walking onto the pitch with broomsticks in hand.

"I don't believe it!" Oliver hissed, outraged. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

He shot towards the ground, landing hard, while the rest of the team followed at a more sedate pace.

"Flint!" Oliver bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood." Marcus Flint replied in a self-satisfied tone.

"But I booked the field! I booked it!" Harry realized this was the first time he ever saw Oliver this angry.

"Ah," Flint smirked, "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to get used to their new brooms.'"

Oliver paled. "What?"

The whole Slytherin team smiled and held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new black broomsticks with fine gold lettering spelling 'Nimbus Two Thousand and One' gleamed before the Gryffindors' eyes.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month. Draco Malfoy's father generously donated these in exchange for our participation in the Quidditch Introduction event."

Harry was shocked to hear that. "What?"

"Oh, hello there, President." Flint greeted Harry carelessly, as though he had only just noticed him. "Did you forget to tell your team about that?"

The rest of the Gryffindor team turned to stare at Harry, who clenched his empty fist. "I was not even informed of your participation." He said coldly.

Harry realized that the Slytherins were trying to make him look bad, and Archer quickly gave him the advice to change the subject.

"Besides," Harry shot a momentary smirk at them before putting on his innocent face. "Any changes to the booking of the Quidditch pitch requires a day's notice in advance, and the captains involved will be informed by their respective Heads of House upon the mutual agreement between all parties. Oliver," Harry turned to his team captain, "Did Professor McGonagall tell you that the booking had been changed? Or did she say anything about Professor Snape talking to her?" (2)

Oliver saw where Harry was going and smiled. "No, she didn't. Sorry, Flint," He faced his Slytherin counterpart, "It looks like your signed note is useless after all. Tell Snape he should have kept McGonagall in the loop for me, will you?"

"You're lying." Flint glared unpleasantly at Harry, who simply stared back with a bored expression.

"No, I am not." Harry countered. "It's in the school rules, the section regarding the use of the Quidditch pitch." _Of all the rules I memorized, this is one of those I never expected to end up using first._

The two teams drew together for strength; the Slytherins around Marcus Flint, the Gryffindors around Harry, both glaring at each other. For a moment, it looked like a fight was imminent, but it was the Slytherins who backed down in the end.

"Come on," Flint grunted to his team, and they stalked off the pitch. "We'll use it in the afternoon."

The Gryffindors watched them leave, before Harry spoke up.

"Draco never told me that they were taking part in the event." He looked beseechingly at Oliver. "I didn't even know he arranged something like this."

"We believe you, Harry." Fred said, and the rest of the team nodded. "Those slimy Slytherins..."

"C'mon. Let's get back to training." Oliver told him.

As he took to the air with the rest of them, Harry realized that he might have more trouble dealing with Draco than he expected.

* * *

(1) Idea adapted from gabriel blessing's Hill of Swords, used by Shirou to describe Count Wardes.

(2) I can't remember which fanfic I saw this idea in; I think it was a Peggy Sue one (Time travel back), and Harry asked Hermione to recite the relevant rule, which she did word for word.

Took me a while to get this chapter out as I was distracted by, of all things, Naruto fanfiction. After looking through a few of them, I realized that Naruto fanfics have a larger average review count, which threw off my 'good fanfic sense' for a bit.

Thanks to all those who have reviewed so far! You know, I would like to say that just because a character SAYS something about the world, fanfiction or canon, doesn't mean it's necessary true. If Archer started telling Harry all about Jewel Magecraft, part of it may be true, but he could also be wrong about some of the more advanced parts as well. So don't accept it as Word of God, yeah? Also, I wonder what would happen if a fanfic author had one of his characters explain something wrongly against canon knowledge, and only point out that mistake in the next chapter; would that chapter get a lot of reviews saying 'You're wrong about this...'? I imagine it will. But then that's the difference between fanfiction and canon, I guess.

More information about Harry's jewel magecraft, which is NOT the same as Rin's.

I've also never seen anyone call Wood out on waking up the girls in the second year so far. Unless there's some girl who wakes up at the crack of dawn in Gryffindor tower, maybe...

Changed a few canon events around~

Anyway, please give your reviews!


	17. Fifth Curse

"Hi Hagrid." Harry greeted the man who opened the door to his knocking.

A smile split the bushy-bearded face. "'ello Harry! 's been a while! Come on in, then."

Hagrid stepped back and pulled the door open wider, letting his young guest into the one-roomed cabin. It was just as Harry remembered it; an enormous bed in the corner, with a fire crackling in the fireplace opposite. In the center was the table surrounded by chairs big enough to fit Hagrid's girth, but the chairs themselves had been shifted aside to make space for a large motorbike on a canvas sheet. Hagrid's boarhound Fang was napping in his basket next to the fire, but a leash was around his neck to keep him from approaching the bike.

"I cleared a space for you." Hagrid informed him. "Go ahead and do yer thing."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Hagrid."

He had inspected Sirius Black's motorbike a few times before in his first year, but this time he had more knowledge about the magic that made it work. With his Structural Analysis to identify the magic, Harry could now tell that most of the magic on the machine was crude apart from the flying charm, which had a style that didn't match the rest of the enchantments. Mr Weasley's magic car used better spells in replicating the working effect, and the flying ability (whose legal loophole Mr Weasley explained to Harry about) was tied to the steering component, making it a much harder thing to enchant compared to the simpler steering column of the motorbike.

Harry was fairly sure he could replicate the driving enchantment. All it did was to make the engine work without fuel, making the motorbike a fuel-free vehicle. If he had to guess, he'd say that the person who did the spellwork was enamored with motorbikes and did the minimum to make it function like a real one should. That, and the guy must have been a showoff, due to the sound-amplification charm on the engine.

_Some kind of biker guy who wants to make a statement? _Archer suggested in a tone that said he wasn't serious.

Harry shrugged, and focused on the flying enchantment instead. It was clearly adapted from the flight charms on a broom, built to respond to the will of the rider based on intent and body posture. Compared to brooms, however, the stabilizing enchantment was split into several different sections along the motorbike's length, each sufficiently strengthened to support the entire structure, all of them coming together to form a cohesive whole that was just as effective as the one on his Nimbus Two Thousand. Harry wasn't sure, but he had a strong feeling that whoever did this part of the enchanting had a very clear idea on broom charms, which meant the person either made brooms, or used one often enough to be curious about its workings.

And somehow, he was fairly sure he encountered both magical signatures before. That meant somewhere down the road, Harry had come across something else of Sirius Black and his friend.

Hagrid's throat clearing made his hand twitch in the middle of note-taking. "Yeh look like yeh havin' fun there."

"Guess I am." Harry decided to start asking about Black. "Say, Hagrid, who was Sirius Black friends with when he was at Hogwarts?"

He heard a wet splat and some coughing. "Why d'yeh wanna know that?"

It took Harry a few moments to come up with an answer, and he chose to speak the truth. "He had a friend who worked on this with him." The boy patted the motorbike as he turned to look at the owner of the cabin. "I'm curious about who that guy would be?"

Hagrid hemmed and hawed, his dark eyes darting about uncomfortably.

"Who, Hagrid?" Harry pressed.

"Yeh father. Now don' ask me anymore, okay?" The look on Hagrid's face was fierce.

Harry was stunned. His father was friends with Sirius Black? That was something that bore thinking about. He quickly noted it down in the blank column of his notebook to consider later. But before he could change the subject, Hagrid did it for him.

"Yeh know, that Professor Lockhart was here this mornin'." Hagrid announced in a voice that couldn't have screamed 'change of subject' more than if he tried. "Guy was givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well - like I don' know."

Harry could hear the disdain Hagrid had for the fop evidently, but before the man could continue, there was another knock at the door. After a brief exchange of glances, Hagrid got up and opened it, revealing a smiling Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione." Harry said quietly. His mind still thinking about the connection between his father and Sirius Black.

"Hi Harry! Hi Hagrid!" Hermione greeted both of them in turn, then saw what Harry was working on. "Is that... a motorcycle? Where did you get one?"

"It's Hagrid's." replied Harry.

"Wanna cuppa tea, Hermione?" Hagrid didn't wait for a reply, but took out a teacup and filled it from the kettle.

The girl accepted it gratefully. "Thanks, Hagrid. How've you been?"

"Same ol', same ol'," Hagrid chuckled, "What about you? Toppin' the class as usual, I bet!"

Hermione blushed, hiding most of her expression by sipping her tea.

"She's also quite the fan of Lockhart, you know." Harry commented, his smirk where Hermione couldn't see it.

"Professor Lockhart." corrected his friend primly, but Hagrid snorted.

"He was here, bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

_Hagrid actually said something against Lockhart. He never even did this with Snape... I suppose even Hagrid can tell something's off about Lockhart. _Harry's lips twitched. _But at least Lockhart isn't possessed like Quirrell was. _He turned his attention back to the conversation.

"I think you're being a bit unfair," Hermione was saying, her voice pitched in the way that always irritated Harry because it was the tone she used at her most stubborn and self-righteous, "Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the man for the job-"

"He was the on' man for the job," interrupted Hagrid, offering Hermione treacle fudge while Harry continued to tinker on the motorbike, "An' I mean the on' one. Gettin' very difficult to find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' to think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now."

"I didn't know it was possible to jinx a position." Harry remarked.

"Don' ask me either, but that's just what people say." Hagrid said defensively. "When every year the person in the job changes, people start talkin' and sayin' all kinds o' stuff. Some only stay a year, but those who tried to stay longer..." He trailed off nervously. "Things happened to them."

"What kind of things?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Accidents, goin' missin', bad stuff. No wonder people start sayin' the position's cursed." Hagrid refilled his own teacup. "Let's stop talkin' about this, yeah? Gives me the shivers."

"I don't see what you have against Professor Lockhart, Hagrid." Hermione spoke up, clearly touchy about the issue.

"I never read any o' his books," Hagrid said dismissively, "But the way he talks just gets on my nerves."

"Did you tell him that? That you never read his books?" Harry recognized Lockhart as a person who lived to be recognized by others. They both ignored Hermione's dissatisfied mutters at their casual dismissal of her idol.

"Yeah. Don' think he liked that, 'cause he decided ter go."

"Go? You mean he was here?" Hermione asked excitedly.

Harry tuned the conversation out as he continued to tinker with the motorcycle, using Traced equipment (performed in a toolbox to hide his ability) to see if twisting a few nuts would affect the rest of the magic. The propensity to explore the relation between the physical and magical was sometimes too strong to ignore. Mr Weasley's car was an interesting study; Harry saw that the slightest bit of physical damage would affect the structure of the enchantments, and right now he was examining the same effect on the motorbike.

_A refilling charm to replenish the lubricant oil? _Harry wondered as he took off the blackened gloves and wrote down the last of his findings. _Yeah... I suppose this would make the entire thing fit in realistically with the non-magical world, but it still seems quite shoddy overall._

"Yeh done, Harry?" Harry nodded to that question, finishing the last of his tea. "Come an' see what I've bin growin' then."

Hagrid led them outside to the back of his hut, where there were a dozen of the largest pumpkin Harry had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder, nearly twice the height of Harry. He immediately analyzed them, and picked out the magic that was infused into their structure.

_Interesting... the magic is being assimilated by the cells until it becomes nature. I didn't know this could happen._

_It can. _Archer confirmed. _Which is why the long-lasting physical curses are dangerous if left untreated. You read that in that library book, remember?_

_Oh yeah... I forgot. _Harry's magecraft might help him assimilate information quickly, but sometimes things just slipped through.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" Hagrid was saying happily. "Fer the Halloween feast... should be big enough by then."

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, who spoke up, "With a bit of extra help, I suppose?" Her tone was one of amusement.

"Well, yeah." Hagrid admitted embarrassedly.

_You see it, don't you? _Archer asked.

Harry turned slightly to look at the flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back of the cabin. He knew that there were wand fragments contained inside its length after analyzing it, and it was easy enough to come to the right conclusion.

"An Engorgement Charm, I assume. Well, you've done a good job."

"That's what lil' Ginny Weasley said. Met her jus' yesterday." Hagrid winked at Harry. "Said she was jus' lookin' around the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house."

"I don't know who you're talking about." Harry deadpanned, hearing Archer snicker in his mind.

Hagrid and Hermione snorted at that. "Sure yeh don't."

Eventually, the two children gave their farewells and headed back to the castle, where they split up, Hermione to the library, Harry to find Draco. With his Map, he was able to locate the blonde lazing around the Student Council room with his two goons. Harry simply walked in and gave Crabbe and Goyle a hard stare before silently signaling for them to leave. Having gotten used to Harry and Draco having private conversations without them, the two heavyset Slytherins left the room after a nod from Draco.

"First, let me just say that I don't approve of you going around behind our backs with the Slytherin Quidditch team." Harry stated.

"In case you've forgotten, Slytherin is my House, and thus any arrangements I make is my own business." Draco said coolly.

"Not when it involves the Quidditch Introduction event, which the whole school is a part of. You couldn't even _tell_ the rest of the Council? We're supposed to be working together, and in a way that's based on some trust. You don't trust us at all?"

Harry didn't need Archer's help to make his voice fill with disappointment and rebuke; he thought Draco had been more inclined to working together than this, and was even starting to treat him as something approaching a friend, when Draco had pulled this.

Draco looked away, unable to meet Harry's gaze. "I... apologize. I shouldn't have done that."

For a moment, Harry was shocked. Draco had actually apologized. He was expecting the other boy to make some kind of excuse, but...

_Just acknowledge it. _Archer advised.

"Okay, you're forgiven." Harry nodded when Draco looked up in surprise. "Just count on the rest of us a little next time, okay? For now, we have to deal with this whole thing."

Inside his head, Harry was arguing with Archer; he was really starting to think it was a bad idea to even have Draco in the Council. But Archer countered by reminding him of his promise with Draco back in the first year, plus some examples about keeping one's enemies close.

_Draco's not an enemy! _Harry protested.

_So you say. _

Harry shut up, knowing he had no way of countering that.

He looked at Draco, and took out a coin. "Call it. You win, we go with Slytherin. I win, we go with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."

Draco didn't object; they both knew it was impossible to get the two teams to work alongside each other. "Tails."

Harry flipped the coin, caught it and showed the result to Draco. "Heads. We'll go with the original plan."

Draco nodded. "I'll deal with Flint and the rest then." Then he suddenly smirked. "Hope you're prepared to lose the Quidditch Cup to us this year."

"Yes, yes, get going." Harry waved Draco out of the room.

He didn't even consider using the point-racking trick. The only reason it worked the first time was because of Snape, so the rabid Quidditch fans wouldn't accept it this time. And in any case, Harry wasn't that desperate to win. A sport where heavy iron balls tried to knock players off their brooms or break bones didn't really garner that much support from Harry, especially with an attempt on his life during a past game.

A knock sounded at the door, and Harry called for the person to enter. He almost groaned out loud when he saw it was Colin.

"Hey Harry! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I want to show you-"

Harry eyed the photography the younger boy was brandishing in front of him. A moving, black-and-white Colin was shifting uncomfortably next to the Harry in the picture, whose hand on the boy's shoulder was gripping very tightly while its owner showed off several teeth in a forced feral smile. As Harry watched, his photographic counterpart put the other boy in a chokehold for a few moments before returning to the original position.

"Will you sign it?" asked Colin eagerly.

"Hn." Harry grunted, taking out a pen.

As he scrawled his signature on the back, there was a discussion going on in his mind.

_Any ideas on how to stop this kid from stalking me?_

_Just one. You should have thought of it already. But here it is... _

Colin was confused when Harry suddenly groaned and slapped his forehead. "What? What's wrong? Do you have a headache, Harry?"

"No, no," Harry muttered. "I just thought of something good. Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"I was thinking of joining the castle exploring tour, but I can give it a miss if you want," admitted Colin.

"Good, so can you come here about..." Harry checked the clock. "An hour before lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure!" Colin cheered.

Dinner was a quiet affair for Harry, as he sat with Su at the Ravenclaw table. He filled her in on the plan he had for Colin, and she agreed to help out. She was curious as to why he chose the Ravenclaws for help, but once he explained his reasoning, she came around to his way of thinking.

After dinner, Harry went back to searching the upper levels of the castle for the source of the odd prana. The rest of his group of friends were doing homework, while the twins were stuck in detention with Filch for a prank they played earlier.

Harry was in a slight race against time to locate Riddle's Box, as the longer he took, the more its holder wandered about and spread the scent around the castle, making his task even harder. By now, the smell had spread to the fifth floor as well, confirming Harry's suspicions that whoever held the source was either a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw, the only two Houses who were situated on the upper levels.

He embarked on his search of the seventh floor, starting from the Fat Lady's portrait. He checked several places, such as inside armors or in hidden rooms or passages behind paintings. He had a stroke of luck when he did, as a few of the enclosed passages bore a marked reduction in the scent, leading Harry to conclude that the holder did not use those passages, and he began to pursue that clue. By cross-checking with one of his self-made maps, he managed to narrow down which of the passages Riddle's Box went through before.

Something about his findings made him frown, and Harry went back down to the sixth floor to repeat his new searching style now that he had something to look for. Sure enough, he was able to eliminate several passages from his list when the smell within proved to be too weak to have come from a direct scent. His work continued on to the fifth floor, and Harry grew increasingly sure of his conclusion.

He was about seventy percent sure that the person holding Riddle's Box was a Gryffindor. The possible routes the person had taken were closer to Gryffindor tower than they were to Ravenclaw tower. Also, his analysis indicated that the person was familiar with the secret passageways, so it was either an older student... or someone who bought one of his maps.

_You're getting tired already, _Archer said when Harry suddenly yawned. _Perhaps you should switch to something else, or you might end up missing an important clue._

Harry nodded. _But I've got you to help me if that happens, right?_

_Don't get too reliant on me._

_Yes, yes... _

Harry was thinking of researching more into the connection between Sirius Black and James Potter, and was opening the Map to check who else he might come across along the way to Professor McGonagall's office when his eyes fell onto a dot with the name Gilderoy Lockhart. It was currently stationary in the Defense office, shifting from side to side occasionally.

_Perhaps it might be worth looking into that guy. Odd that he couldn't do anything against the pixies when he went up against so much more in his books, _Harry thought.

_Weren't you going to ask McGonagall about Sirius Black? _Archer asked, amusement evident in his tone.

_Unlike McGonagall, who's been teaching for several decades already, Lockhart is likely to be gone by the end of next year. _Harry replied.

_Just don't forget about it. Your plate is stacked so high that you usually end up missing something. _

Harry brought out his Invisibility Cloak and threw it around himself. While he was known for often wandering around the school due to his exploring of the castle, spying on others was typically frowned upon, and he didn't want to get caught doing so.

Keeping in mind Archer's advice, Harry made sure to walk as silently as possible. Yes, he could have used a Silencing spell to hide the sound of his footsteps or his clothes rustling, but those required the use of a wand, which Harry still viewed as a crutch that he tried not to rely on too much. The thought of that reminded him that he should find a place to review what Nicolas had taught him before he ended up losing those skills.

Reaching the second-floor corridor where Lockhart's office was, Harry pressed himself against the wall and Reinforced his ears to listen. He could hear the man humming to himself as a quill scratched across parchment. As he listened, he realized that Lockhart was talking to himself, and the topic was of the man's fame. Apparently, he was currently answering his own fan mail, and while he enjoyed the attention, Lockhart found the work a bit troublesome. Harry smirked as he realized he had a way in with the man. After checking his surroundings to make sure that there wasn't anyone around to see him, Harry took off his Cloak and knocked on the door.

"One moment!" Lockhart's voice called out from inside. After a brief scraping of chair legs against a floor and a few footsteps, the door opened to reveal Gilderoy Lockhart in his usual immaculate appearance. "Ah, Harry! How can I help?"

"Well you see, Professor-" Harry broke off, tilting his head to the side to peer past the man. "What were you doing, sir?"

"Answering my fan mail, of course! So many of my dear fans write to me, even though I'm no longer out in the public - such wonderful support they give! There are quite a lot of them, however." Lockhart glanced over his shoulder at the large pile of photographs on his desk.

"Then I think I've got just the thing to help!" Harry replied cheerfully, pulling out one of his Assignment Quills.

It only took a bit of modification before the Quill was up and running, dashing off addresses on the envelopes, who transferred themselves into a growing pile under one of Harry's spells, while he and Lockhart enjoyed their cups of tea together. Harry let his eyes drift around the place; hung in many places on every wall were countless framed photographs of Lockhart, each smiling and winking like the original. Harry shuddered and focused on his cup of tea instead.

"Brilliant, utterly brilliant! You've saved me quite a lot of work, my boy!" Lockhart proclaimed gratefully.

Harry smiled back, trying not to let his irritation show. "You're welcome, Professor. That should give you more time to train yourself back up, right?"

"Yes, yes, of course. You're very sharp to have seen through my carelessness, Harry." Lockhart sighed theatrically. "All of the work I've done to reciprocate the support of my fans has weakened me."

_He's very good, but I can tell he's lying. _Archer reported. _And he's quick on his feet at covering things up. I'm sure that before you even mentioned his lack of skill, he didn't even have that excuse ready._

"Well, I'm sure I'm speaking for the class when I say we hope to learn more from you next time. Like some of those spells you used in your books."

Lockhart didn't even bat an eye. "Of course, of course. Tell me, Harry, which of my books do you like the most?"

Harry recognized that the man was changing the subject. "Wanderings with Werewolves, of course. I have to admit, you're really brave to try and take on a full werewolf by yourself."

Lockhart preened. "Just doing my part for the people."

_I really don't believe that... _Harry thought as he took another sip of his tea.

Harry made sure to pay attention to Lockhart's speech and actions, and from how the man talked about his fans and himself, his impression of the man as a glory hound became fully cemented. He and Archer still had no idea how the man could have done so many deeds when he seemed so ineffectual up close. Eventually, Harry decided to come back another time and took his leave of Lockhart.

Just as he was turning the corner to head for the stairs, Harry heard something - something that made his entire being tense. It was a voice, icy chill and filled with venomous malice.

"_Come... come to me... let me rip you... let me tear you... let me kill you..._"

Harry spun around, his eyes darting to several areas in an effort to locate the source. At the same time, Archer was analyzing what Harry had heard, and came to the conclusion that it wasn't from anywhere out in the open. Harry frowned when he heard this; there shouldn't be any secret passageways in this area, so it was unlikely that he heard someone speaking while inside one. If it wasn't for Archer hearing the voice as well, he might have assumed it was just a hallucination.

Feeling suspicious, Harry checked the Map, but failed to find anyone suspicious near him... and that the twins were approaching his location. He quickly tucked the Map away - they were probably using the original, and he didn't want them to know about his ability to copy it. Turning the corner, he met up with Fred and George Weasley, who were smelling strongly of polish. They began to make the trek back to Gryffindor tower.

"Hey guys. Finished your detention?"

"Yeah. It was tough." Fred started.  
"He made us polish the Quidditch Cup over and over until he was satisfied." George added.  
"We're gonna have nightmares if we actually win it this year."

"Only the Quidditch Cup?"

"Of course not, there were others too."  
"Special Award for Services to the School, House Cup..."

"Next time, you guys should invent a special polish to make the job easier." Harry commented.

"Uh uh, no way."  
"We only deal with pranks."  
"It's our principle as the greatest group of pranksters since the Marauders!"

"Group means there's more than just you two," Harry pointed out, "Or are you including Lee Jordan into this?"

The twins exchanged looks. "I guess so." said George.

Harry also asked them about their class with Lockhart, which caused them to launch into a descriptive tale of how destructive pixies could be if left unstopped. Hearing it made him feel glad that he had managed to control the damage in his own case, and privately he took down notes on using Cornish pixies as a diversion. At the same time, he hoped that the voice he heard wasn't an indication of Riddle's Box having been opened.

* * *

"This is Luna Lovegood." Su introduced a familiar blond girl. "Her father runs the Quibbler."

"The Quibbler?" Draco snorted, but he didn't say any further under Harry's sharp look.

"Hello." The girl greeted the Council dreamily.

"Hi." Harry nodded to her. "And this is Colin Creevey."

Draco smirked, remembering the photo he had taken. The girls just welcomed Colin.

Harry outlined his idea to the Council; he wanted to create a group that would report on events within and without Hogwarts, similar to what the Daily Prophet did for the British magical society. The other three embraced the idea instantly due to its potential. Draco knew the importance of information, Su felt that having people in the know was a good thing, while Hannah thought of the chance to reach out to others.

Su brought Luna in due to her coming out above those who had links to the Daily Prophet, as the girl not only knew how to work a printing press, but she had some good reporter skills as well. Something about her triggered Harry's senses; Luna had a rather spaced-out expression on her face, but he had a feeling she didn't miss much.

Colin was chosen for two reasons. The first was that he had a camera and really knew how to take good shots, while the second, which Harry kept secret, was to get the kid off his back by making him focus on something else other than Harry.

"But have you read the Quibbler?" Draco objected.

"Of course I have." Harry replied. "I know its reputation, but if you ignore the content, the articles are actually very well written."

It took a bit more talking to convince Draco to follow his decision, but when they announced the formation of what they called the Hogwarts Herald to the school, the response was overwhelming. From the initial group of two, it quickly expanded to a group of eight from all four Houses. Dean Thomas and Fay Dunbar from Gryffindor took over the sports section, both magical and non-magical, Parvati worked with her twin sister Padma for a fashion and cosmetics section, Ernie Macmillan and Anthony Goldstein chose politics as his choice, while Tracey and Lavender dealt with the miscellaneous stuff as they loved gossip. With Luna working as the head editor and logistics manager, the plan soon took off.

Draco commented on the fact that Gryffindor had the most number of people involved, to which Harry pointed out that the House of those who charge forward would be the ones to join something like this. Slytherins kept to themselves too much to join in, and they ferreted out information for their own use, not to let others know. Ravenclaws were the second most likely to join due to their urge to know, while the Hufflepuffs just pitched in because they wanted to be a part of things.

At first, they got by on donations from their supporters, with Harry and Draco chipping in slightly. Then as readership picked up, the Herald sold advertisement space to shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. The first few articles needed a great deal of editing before the reporters learned how to properly present the things they wrote about, and Harry helped out by getting his foster parents to buy books on journalistic writing and sending them over. The popularity of the Hogwarts Herald began to spread as the writers branched out, and by the time October rolled around, just about everyone in the school was reading it alongside the Daily Prophet. Even those that knew of the Quibbler's reputation didn't mind the small column written by Luna in each issue, and when the Daily Prophet mentioned their newspaper, the Council got together with the members of the Herald for a celebratory party.

The Quidditch Introduction event was a great success as well. With Harry and the Council supervising the thing on the whole, the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams took over the bulk of the work. The new students (with a few Purebloods mixed in) drifted around the pitch in groups to try out in the roles of the players on the ground first, within containment areas to ensure that the Bludgers and Snitch didn't escape. The Herald reporters occasionally approached some of those involved, getting accounts from the players and the first-years for the next article. After everyone had tried out on the ground, the group moved to the air, where the first-years got a REAL taste of the sport. The entire event culminated in a practice game with Snitch excluded and training Bludgers that left colored paint where they struck. Harry could see all four of the Quidditch captains (the Slytherin and Ravenclaw teams turned up to watch) taking note of who they might recommend to try out next year.

Harry also questioned the teachers further about his father, particularly focusing on the friends his father had. He noticed that most of them avoided mentioning Sirius Black outright, only saying that he ran around with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Feeling suspicious, Harry decided not to probe them any further until he could learn more on his own. After failing to find anything in the library, he wrote to the Greengrasses, and found out that the crime Sirius Black was guilty of also involved the death of Peter Pettigrew. He was extremely shocked to find out that nobody wanted to tell him about Sirius Black because they didn't want him to know that his father had been betrayed to Voldemort by the person he viewed as his best friend.

And yet... something about it seemed off. If there was one thing Harry learned about the wizarding world, it was that wizards were idiots who missed the forest for the trees, and this was one of the times his instinct was telling him things weren't what they seemed. Archer agreed, but couldn't offer much help apart from telling Harry to see if he could find anything of the man's trial.

The demands on his personal time also caused Harry's independent studying to take a back seat. While he completed his homework ahead most of his peers, the amount of time he was able to spend with the Science group decreased, though they kept him informed of the experiments they did. But Harry did manage to find an empty classroom to practice a bit of what he learned at the Flamels', throwing hexes, curses and Transfiguration spells around the place. He knew it wasn't very effective without someone else to train against, but he did his best. The book on enchanting proved to be very interesting, and fortunately Harry was able to find a few books to start working on the basics of enchanting.

However, he made an interesting breakthrough in his magecraft research with jewels, one that was entirely accidental. While he was unable to release the stored energy outside of detonating the container in a coarse manner, Harry found that the prana leaking from the poor quality gems was tainted with something new. Since the conventional Jewel Magecraft would not work for him, Harry decided to pursue this line of research, and began working on modifying the gems to become filters rather than containers with Alchemy. What was interesting was that the different gems left different changes upon the prana, though he was yet unable to collect enough of them to perform a proper analysis, hence his decision to embark on his chosen endeavor. He knew he would eventually have to buy jewels of better quality, but for now he had to refine the process with what he had.

But his search for Riddle's Box was proving to be more difficult than he expected. By now he was very sure that the holder was a Gryffindor, with a small percentage of it being a Ravenclaw due to Harry being cautious of getting caught in a wrong conclusion. The problem was that as time wore on, the more the holder walked around the castle, causing the smell to spread to the lower levels. There was only one small bonus to it - the holder was most likely a girl, as Harry did not detect the prana smell in the boys' bathrooms. He snuck into a girls' bathroom on the second floor, and confirmed that the smell was much stronger in there.

So far, apart from that one incident with a disembodied voice, there hadn't been any other incidents that hinted at an opened Riddle's Box, but Harry wasn't really reassured. Dobby had been too desperate for the warning to have been fake, according to Archer, so he was careful not to let his guard drop.

The month of October was just as bad as the one in the year before, as both staff and students were struck by a sudden spate of colds that sent them to Madam Pomfrey for a Pepper-Up potion, a concoction that left them smoking from their ears afterwards (Archer was amazed to see that effect). One of the more amusing victims was Ginny Weasley, whose combination of red hair and steam made it look like her head was on fire (Colin vowed to try and make colored photographs in future because the usual photos did not do the actual sight justice). Harry was initially worried about the girl, but since she seemed to have lost her tendency to stalk him, he didn't pay her much mind apart from ignoring her clumsiness whenever she was around him; most of his attention was fixed on trying to train for Quidditch in the awful weather.

Raindrops the size of bullets fell for days on end, striking the windows with a force that made the teachers raise their voice in order to be heard over the din (with the exclusion of Snape, whose classroom had no windows). The level of the lake rose, and flowerbeds turned to muddy streams; Herbology usually left them all with mud caked around their ankles. Yet through it all, Oliver Wood insisted on holding regular training sessions. Thus, on one stormy Saturday afternoon, Harry could be seen drying himself off in the Entrance Hall with his wand, which had been stored in its holster on his arm as always.

One of the main reasons why Oliver had been so focused on training was because of the Slytherins' new brooms. According to the twins, who had spied on the Slytherin team, the new brooms were fast enough that the Slytherins were no more than greenish blurs. Harry didn't really care, but he went to check it for himself and thought that he could keep up with that speed if he needed to. Though he didn't really care too much about winning, Harry provided Oliver with a training program that would prepare them to take advantage of the Slytherin team's tunnel vision weakness, and Oliver was ecstatic about it.

The training in the rainy weather had left him soaked to the skin and splattered with mud. While he could not do anything for his underclothes, Harry could at least get rid of the mud and stop himself from dripping all over the stone floor; Filch had caught a cold recently, and was in an even worse mood than usual. Once he was sufficiently dry, he started making his way back to Gryffindor tower, silently patting himself on the back for learning how to cast the drying charm.

He came across someone else in a deserted corridor; Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the ghost of Gryffindor tower, more commonly known as Nearly Headless Nick, was reading a letter that was just as ethereal as him, occasionally breaking off to stare out the window with mutters.

"Hi, Nick." Harry initially addressed the ghost by his full name until Nick had given him permission to shorten it.

"Hello, hello," Nick started and looked around at him. "Training hard, I see."

"The usual." Harry shrugged, eyeing the letter and wondering how a ghost letter even came about. "You're looking troubled."

"Ah," Nick waved his hand elegantly, causing his nearly decapitated head to wobble slightly, "A matter of no importance... it's not like I really wanted to join... thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements'-"

Harry didn't need Archer to tell that Nick wasn't as uncaring as his tone suggested.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," The ghost suddenly burst out, brandishing the letter towards Harry, "That getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Uhh..." Harry wasn't sure what to reply to that, so he went with the first thing Archer said. "Yeah, of course. It shows, um... that you're badass. Wait, what?"

Luckily, Nick had only heard Harry saying 'yeah'. "I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However-" Nearly Headless Nick flipped the letter open and read furiously: "'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. (Harry and Archer couldn't believe that there were such sports) It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"

Fuming, Nick stuffed the letter away, and Harry's eyes continued to follow it - the letter was prana bound in the form of an ethereal letter, and was tied to Nick personally; it would probably vanish without contact with him. Perhaps he should ask more about it; if house elves had as much power as they had, what about ghosts...?

"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry! Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore." Nick ranted, before taking several deep breaths (_He doesn't need to breathe, _Harry thought) to calm himself down.

"So... is there anything I can do for you?"

"Not really, I was just wondering why you were so troubled. Now I know."

"Yes, now you know." Nick replied sullenly.

"But I stand by what I said," Harry now saw where Archer was going with his earlier statement. "If it took you forty-five hits to die, that means you really don't go down easy. That's something to be proud of at least."

Nick stared at Harry for a few seconds. "That's very nice of you to say that, Harry." The ghost said weakly.

"You're welcome." Harry shifted slightly, feeling his wet underclothes tug on somewhere sensitive. "I better go shower before I end up catching a cold. See you, Nick."

He started walking, but just as he reached the end of the corridor, Nearly Headless Nick called out to him.

"Wait, Harry!" He turned to see the ghost floating towards him.

"What is it?"

"I would like to ask you a favor," Nick's face went through a series of conflicting emotions, "Would I be asking too much - but, no you wouldn't want-"

"Just spit it out, Nick."

"Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up in a dignified pose.

Harry wasn't sure what to think, and decided to just ask. "I assume it's something to celebrate?"

"Of course. I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such a honor if you would attend." Nick was talking in a rather formal way, something that made Harry want to smile after interacting with the ghost on a much more casual basis for so long. "Mr Longbottom and Miss Granger would be most welcome,too, of course - but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?" He gave Harry an expectant look.

Harry thought about it as well, before nodding. "Might as well. Maybe I'll meet someone who knew a Potter."

Nick was about to celebrate when the meaning of Harry's words hit him. "Oh, my dear boy, I'm so sorry... I forgot about your loss... how impolite of me..." He said mournfully.

Harry shook his head. "It's okay. I'm dealing with it in my own way."

"You are truly a courageous lad, to stand tall in face of such adversity. Truly," Nick suddenly swept a bow to Harry, "I will be honored to have you at my deathday party."

Harry inclined his head once, and left.

"A deathday party?" said Hermione keenly when Harry informed her about the invitation after he finished changing. "I bet there aren't that many living people who can say they've been to one of those - it'll be fascinating!"

The two of them were sitting together with Neville in the common room, doing the Potions essay Snape assigned over the weekend. Harry already had his finished without the use of his Assignment Quill, and Hermione was helping Neville with some of the trickier parts.

"I suppose so..." Harry said thoughtfully. "Hey, Colin!" He called across the common room.

The mousy boy zoomed over almost instantly. "Yes, Harry?"

When challenged to choose between attending his first Halloween feast at Hogwarts and going to a party for dead people with his idol, Colin chose the latter without even considering it for a moment. Later, when a firework-spewing salamander took to the air due to the Weasley twins feeding it a Filibuster firework, Harry escaped back to his room to deal with other things in relative peace. By the time Halloween arrived, the party had increased by one more. Luna Lovegood was the equivalent of an occult lover in the non-magical world, and she positively leapt at the chance to witness a deathday party, saying it would make for a good article in the Quibbler as well.

He did make sure to get more details from Nearly Headless Nick; if he hadn't asked about the food, they might have ended up starving. It wouldn't have done to end up starving because they couldn't partake of the rotten food that were normally served at such gatherings. Luckily Nick offered to get the elves to prepare proper food for them.

On the day of the feast itself, they stopped by the Great Hall to get a few pictures of the decorations on the place; Hagrid's pumpkins, which had grown to the size of garden sheds, had been carved into gigantic lanterns big enough for a few people to sit in, and there were the usual live bats fluttering around. Colin took a few shots, and then they headed down to the dungeons. The path to the party was depressing; bright blue flames on thin jet-black tapers, and the temperature dropped the closer they got to the place. The only one who seemed unaffected was Luna, who bounced along while the rest of them drew their robes around them to keep warm. Then they heard it - a sound like a thousand fingernails scraping across a blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Neville whispered.

They turned a corner and saw Sir Nicholas standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends..." Nick said mournfully, "Welcome, welcome... so pleased you could come..."

He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.

Harry met his friends' eyes. "Colin, you go with Luna. Other than that, feel free to get some food."

The girl was already off talking to one of the ghosts, in her usual manner of not looking at the person she was talking to. Colin nodded and went off after her.

"I don't think I'll ever understand that girl." Hermione murmured. "Snorkacks? Wrackspurts? None of those exist!"

Harry smirked. "Technically we don't exist either."

"What?" Hermione and Neville chorused.

"How many non-magicals say that magic doesn't exist?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Hermione huffed. "That's different."

"Is it really?" said Harry.

Before they could reply, Harry went off on his own. Now that he looked around, it was an incredible sight. The dungeon the party was in could hold hundreds of people, and it was nearly full of ghosts, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful mockery of music played by the thirty ghost orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. Light came from an enormous chandelier filled with the same black candles that lined the way here, and the entire place was cold enough to make their breath mist visibly before their eyes.

_Bet you've never seen something like this before, huh Archer?_

_Indeed I haven't. And I wouldn't say it's worth attending._ The spirit replied.

Harry ventured around the room, trailed by his two friends, taking care not to walk through any of the ghosts along the way. He could see how some of them died; a ragged man with chains probably died of starvation, while the knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead obviously fell to that single wound. He greeted some of those he knew, such as the Fat Friar who was talking to the knight, or the Bloody Baron, whom all the ghosts avoided, but nodded silently back to Harry.

"Oh, no," Hermione's voice made Harry turn around. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle-"

"Who?" asked Neville.

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the second floor."

_Did I tell you about this Japanese urban legend about a girl named Hanako?_

_No, what's it about?_

_In a girls bathroom, usually on the third floor, there'll be a certain stall which is always locked. If you knock on it and call for Hanako-san, she might reply._

_...okaaaayyyy... _Harry decided to ignore Archer in favor of the ongoing conversation.

"She haunts a toilet?"

"Yes. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you."

Suddenly, Harry realized which toilet Hermione had been referring to - it was the one he had snuck into to check for the prana smell. No wonder no one was around when he had went in; it wasn't in use all that much in the first place.

"Hey look, Hermione, there's the food!" Neville said desperately, obviously not liking the topic of trying to pee with a ghost around you.

They approached the table where there were a few small cakes, pies, and sandwiches. As they filled their stomachs, Harry pointed out the other long table in the dungeon where the food for the ghosts were; Neville approached it for a closer look, and dashed back twice as fast with a green look on his face. Harry didn't need to hear Neville to know what he had seen, since his nose had already informed him about all the rotten food placed there. His Reinforced eyes had already picked out an enormous grey cake shaped like a tombstone with words marking the death of Nearly Headless Nick on Halloween, 1492. He spotted one ghost sliding through the table, crouched so that his wide-open mouth went through one of the dishes. It didn't look like it had any effect, and the ghost wandered away disappointedly.

"You know, this isn't what I was expecting." Hermione remarked.

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know, something livelier than this, I suppose." Hermione looked around to see both Harry and Neville staring at her in disbelief. "What?"

Neville was the one to speak. "Hermione, this is a _death_day party. It's not going to be lively."

Hermione huffed and turned away. "I know, I know."

The next moment, she yelped and jumped back, because a small man had swooped down in front of her. It was Peeves the poltergeist, who was responsible for causing trouble to the school lives of many. Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves was the opposite of pale and transparent; he was wearing a bright orange party hat and a revolving bow tie, with a broad grin that flickered when he saw Harry twirl a silver knife at the back of the group while staring back at him. Both of them still remembered that Harry managed to threaten Peeves enough to get him to back off, using pain as a motivator.

"Nibbles?" Peeves offered them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.

"No thanks." Hermione refused.

Unfortunately for Harry's friends, Peeves had no qualms about making trouble for them instead. "Heard you talking about poor Myrtle. Rude you was about poor Myrtle." Harry rolled his eyes as Peeves took a deep breath. "OY! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset!" Hermione whispered frantically. "I didn't mean it, I don't mind her- er, hello, Myrtle."

Behind her, Harry and Neville exchanged looks at their friend's sudden change in character, before turning their attention to a squat ghost of a girl who had come in response to Peeves' summons. She had one of the glummest looks on her face, partially hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles.

"What?" She said sulkily.

"How are you, Myrtle?" Hermione asked in a falsely bright voice. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet." Hermione received a sniff in response.

"Miss Granger was just talking about you-" Peeves said slyly.

Harry knew it wasn't really nice of him, but he enjoyed seeing Hermione put on the spot like this sometimes, which was why he didn't step in. Hermione tried to pretend that she hadn't been badmouthing Myrtle behind her back, but the ghost suddenly broke down into tears, encouraged by Peeves, and fled away with the poltergeist chasing after her while he yelled insults.

Luna and Colin joined them at the food table, and began eating as well.

"Hope you guys had a better time than we did." Harry commented.

"We did." Luna replied. "They were very helpful in answering questions."

Colin put down his camera in an empty spot on the table. "Alright, Harry?"

Harry nodded back. "Good work, Colin."

They stayed around the table, eating and discussing the ghostly guests in low voices. Nearly Headless Nick approached them to ask if they were enjoying the party, and Hermione lied, saying yes. Just as Nick was about to speak to the Orchestra so that he could give his speech, a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go," said Nick bitterly.

A dozen ghost horses burst through the dungeon wall, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly applauded, but Harry and his friends didn't move, Harry because he realized what was going on from Nick's dark expression, his friends because they had no idea what was going on.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing his horn. He leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd, and strode over to Nick, squashing his head back down onto his neck.

"Nick!" The ghost roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?" He guffawed and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.

"Live 'uns!" Sir Patrick spotted Harry and his friends, faking a jump of astonishment that sent his head rolling off to the laughter of the crowd.

"Very amusing," Nick said darkly.

"Don't mind Nick!" Sir Patrick's head shouted from its position on the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow-"

"Yes," Harry cut in, "I have. I see a man who doesn't back down in face of adversity. I see a person who doesn't give in easily. I see SOMEONE who takes forty-five hits to the neck before death was finally able to take him!"

_Well said. _Archer approved as the crowd fell silent, staring at Harry.

Nick looked proud enough to burst, and Sir Patrick gaped at the boy who had spoken so forcefully.

"Well, I'd like to stay longer, Nick, but it looks like my friends are at their limit." Harry glanced at his friends, who were a shivering bunch. "Just to sum up what I said, Sir Nicholas can be described in one word, and that's badass. Thank you."

He led the way out of the dungeon, followed by Neville, Hermione, Colin and Luna. The crowd gave way before them, and Harry spotted a few ghosts, mostly knights, nodded and beaming approvingly at him.

"Awesome..." Colin murmured, staring at Harry as they walked.

"That was well spoken, Harry." Hermione said from behind as they left the blue-lit corridor. "I didn't know Nearly Headless Nick was like that."

"That's because you didn't talk to him enough, Hermione. Come on, maybe there'll still be some food at the feast."

"Brrr... that place was freezing!" Neville complained. "I could use a cup of hot chocolate."

And then Harry heard it.

"_...rip ...tear ...kill..._"

Harry stumbled slightly, not expecting to hear the same cold, murderous voice he had encountered more than a month ago. His friends looked at him worriedly, but he just gave the excuse that the cold affected him more than he thought. He stood there, shifting around and rubbing his limbs, but actually trying to locate the source of the voice.

"_...sooo hungry... for so long..._"

"Do you guys hear anything?" Harry asked casually.

"_...kill... time to kill..._"

"No." "I didn't hear anything." "What are you talking about?"  
Each of his friends shook their head, except for Luna.

"Are you referring to the hissing sound? It's just the water flowing through the pipes. You hear it sometimes."

"Hmm." Harry Reinforced his ears. _It's growing fainter... moving upwards..._

_Hissing... do you think it's a snake? Your... Parseltongue ability?_

_Maybe... _

"Harry, what's wrong? You're acting strange." Hermione asked, looking worriedly at him.

"Well... I'm just getting this bad feeling. Halloween hasn't really been a lucky day for me, you know?"

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, recalling the events of last year. Neville paled as well, but the other two were understandably confused.

"Come on, let's just get back to the Great Hall."

Distantly, Harry could hear the voice: "_...I smell blood... I SMELL BLOOD!_"

It took all of his willpower to stop himself from running off after the source of the voice. He already knew that it was too risky to do so with his friends around him; they would most likely follow immediately, and if it was a danger situation, they would end up getting caught in it. He couldn't allow that to happen. More than once he griped about the fact that he had to keep the Map a secret, or else he would have whipped it out by now and checked to see who was the one sounding so malevolent.

They reentered the Great Hall just as the students were getting up to go back to their common rooms. Ron was only too eager to inform them about what delicious food they missed out on, but at least they managed to eat a decent amount to fill themselves up.

At the head of the crowd, the students ventured upwards, and Harry grew increasingly tense as they came closer to where the voice he had heard went to. Then he saw it, as did the rest of the students; the chatter and bustle died suddenly.

"What's that?" "Is that... writing?" "Merlin's beard!" "What's that hanging underneath?"

Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the torches.

_**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.**_

Harry also heard splashing, and looked down; there was a large puddle on the floor, and anybody who wanted to approach the words would have to go through it. Then someone screamed.

"It's Filch's cat!" "Oh my god, it is!" "What's happened to it!"

Harry narrowed his eyes; Mrs Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket, stiff as a board with her eyes wide and staring.

Then someone else shouted. "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, M- OW!" THUNK.

Draco Malfoy had pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and apparently slipped on the puddle before knocking himself out on the floor. The sight of it relieved the tension a little, and snorts of laughter could be heard.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd, only to spot his cat and fall back, clutching his face in horror, shrieking, "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris!"

His attention fell on Draco, who was sitting up dazedly.

"You!" Filch screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived, followed by a number of teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Neville and Hermione, and detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," The man said to Filch. "You too, Mr Malfoy. And you, Mr Potter."

Harry was surprised. "Me too, sir?"

"Yes, come along."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My office is nearest, Headmaster - just around the corner (1) - please feel free-"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," replied Dumbledore.

Harry nudged Hermione. "Get Colin," He hissed, "Get him to take pictures of the scene. There may be a clue."

Hermione nodded nervously and disappeared into the Gryffindor crowd while Harry followed behind Draco after Dumbledore, for whom the crowd parted silently to let pass.

_Riddle's Box, I'm betting. _He said to Archer.

_I agree. _Archer said thoughtfully. _Good thing you didn't go after the voice earlier, or people might have blamed you when they found you there._

_Huh. But the question is... why was Draco on the second floor? Isn't his common room down in the dungeons?_

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office, Harry noticed several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight to hide that their hair were in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back, allowing Dumbledore to lay Mrs Norris down on the polished surface and begin examining her. Harry and Draco exchanged looks, and sank into the chairs in the place, watching.

Harry analyzed the cat almost instantly, and realized that it wasn't really dead, but simply frozen. Prana of some sort filled every cell, halting the normal processes in time. There was no cellular breakdown or formation taking place; it was as though the cat had simply been locked in time. But he couldn't inform Dumbledore without appearing suspicious, so he simply waited and watched as Dumbledore peered closely at the cat, poking and prodding with his fingers while McGonagall scrutinized it from a slightly further distance. Snape was standing behind the boys, and Harry noticed the man gripping Draco's left shoulder in a reassuring manner.

As for Lockhart, he was hovering around all of them, throwing out suggestions. "It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her..."

_Bullshit. _Harry thought. He doubted that curse even existed in the first place, and given the obvious naming sense of wizarding spells, the effect didn't match the name. _He's still trying to look important at a time like this?_

_Hush. _Archer warned. _Just watch and wait._

Harry met Snape's eyes momentarily; the man sneered, but when he noticed Harry flicking his eyes towards Lockhart and rolling them, Snape's lips twitched in an agreeing smirk.

Dumbledore now began to cast several spells while tapping Mrs Norris with his wand. Harry pinched his nose to prevent a sneeze, knowing that Dumbledore was trying several counter-curses and diagnostic spells. Harry tuned out Lockhart as well, rather than hear the guy blither on about how he dealt with such things. It was bad enough that Filch was sobbing into his hands as he sat next to the desk.

Eventually, Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, Argus."

Lockhart went silent, while Filch stared at Mrs Norris. "Not dead? But why's she all, all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified." Dumbledore replied. ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart) "But how, I cannot say..."

"Ask him!" Filch shrieked, turning towards Draco, who shrank back.

"No second-year could have done this." Dumbledore said firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced-"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his face purpling with rage. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! The Malfoys know Dark Magic, all of them! He did it! He knows how!"

"Watch your words, Filch." Snape whispered horribly from his position in the shadows. "I do not condone attacks on those under my charge, especially if there's no proof."

The two most hated men in Hogwarts glared at each other.

"I didn't do it!" Draco protested. "I was with everyone else in the Great Hall! Ask him, he wasn't there!" Draco pointed at Harry.

Harry stared flatly back. _Blaming me, are you? _He looked up to see everyone else looking back at him. "I was with Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, and Colin Creevey down in the dungeons, as Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington's guests at his deathday party. We were seen by Sir Nicholas, the Fat Friar, Peeves, Moaning Myrtle, and the Bloody Baron. We ate some food that were prepared for us, and managed to rejoin the rest of the students just before they left." Harry said, with Archer's coaching in his mind.

But he wasn't done speaking. "What I don't get is why Draco was on the second floor when his common room is down in the dungeons." _Now, what explanation will you give?_

The gazes of the adults turned back to Draco, who stuttered nervously. "I-I-I was j-just... thinking of going to the library!"

"Perhaps Draco was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Snape broke in smoothly with a glare at Harry, and the blonde nodded furiously. "There is no proof that he was responsible for this... incident," Snape finished, glancing towards Mrs Norris with a sneer.

"You-!" Filch snarled.

"Argus!" Dumbledore said warningly. "I agree, Severus. Innocent until proven guilty."

Draco looked relieved, but Filch was furious.

"My cat has been Petrified!" The caretaker shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

_Why not try to figure out the cause instead? _Harry complained in his mind.

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," Dumbledore reassured the man patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they've reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in, "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep-"

"Excuse me," said Snape icily, "But I believe I am the Potions Master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go, Mr Potter." Dumbledore said to Harry, who nodded and left.

Harry didn't return to the Gryffindor common room, but made his way back to where the writing was. Surprisingly, it was quite empty, except for Hermione, Colin and Luna.

"Percy tried to get us to leave, but I managed to give an excuse, and Neville got the twins to distract him." Hermione told him.

"What have you got?" Harry asked the trio.

"I've taken pictures of the water, the words, and the bracket from which Mrs Norris hung, four shots each from different angles." Colin said proudly.

"Good work. Luna, did you-"

"I asked the reporters to ask around their Houses." Luna said keenly, surprisingly not in her usual trance-like state. "This will make for an interesting article, not as good as the deathday party one, I'm sure."

"I don't know anything about this, but I'm fairly sure that those words are written in blood." Hermione shivered as she said that.

Harry waded across the puddle, analyzing the words. "These words... they're written too high for anyone to have done it without a ladder or magic." He mused. "Probably the latter. They're too even to have been done by hand."

"You're right." Hermione's voice held some surprise as she realized that he was correct. "It definitely was done with magic."

_The blood also has a sort of locking charm on it, to resist any attempts to remove it. It is rather... powerful. Whoever did this knew what he was doing, and was probably the same person who Petrified Mrs Norris, too. _"What about the water?"

"That's just Moaning Myrtle flooding the toilet again." Hermione informed him. "She's probably crying after what Peeves did to her."

Colin quailed, jumping back. "Ick, you mean this water is?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, but no one uses the toilet anyway, so I'm sure it's clean."

"If it's okay with you, I'll just stand back." Colin replied, mild disgust on his face.

They didn't manage to find anything else, so they split up to return back to their respective common rooms. Harry didn't speak much on the way back. Somehow, he was sure that Riddle's Box had struck again, and this time it had claimed one casualty. He bit his lower lip; it appeared that Halloween really was an unlucky day for him.

* * *

(1) I noticed something wrong with this in book 2. When Hermione mentioned Myrtle, she said Myrtle haunted a toilet on the FIRST floor. Yet, the location mentioned with the writing on the wall puts in on the SECOND floor. Similarly, when canon Harry served his first detention with Lockhart for crashing into the Whomping Willow, Lockhart's office was on the SECOND floor. But after the writing on the wall was found, Lockhart said that his office was just upstairs, which would put it on the THIRD floor. JKR really needs to keep track of what she wrote, doesn't she?

And that's a new chapter. Just a warning now, my rate of writing will be slowed as I'll be back at school for a new year. Also, I'm getting distracted by other stuff, thus I'm leaving my writing to my random muse.

Review please!


	18. Sixth Curse

Scratching his damp scalp, Harry paused outside the Great Hall to drop three Knuts into the newspaper box, and picked up the Hogwarts Herald that it dropped. The box was one of his ideas; rather than using owls to deliver the papers, students just had to drop in the required amount, and get the news. It was a good start to Harry's plan of modernizing the wizarding world, and he planned to adapt the spells involved for the creation of a magical vending machine. Security was an issue, but Harry was sure he could deal with that.

Sitting down at the table, he nodded to Hermione just as she entered the hall, carrying her own copy of the Herald. Harry filled his plate with bacon, and looked at the paper as he started eating.

**ATTACK ON HALLOWEEN!  
Caretaker's cat found Petrified near second floor toilet  
Cruel Prank or Insidious Plot?**

That was the headlines of the latest Hogwarts Herald, two days after the incident itself. While the whole school had already been discussing the attack since it happened, the article provided a more in-depth explanation of the events of that night. Harry scanned the article; if he was reading this right, he could expect people to come to him asking questions... despite the article already stating everything he knew of that night's events (Riddle's Box and his magecraft being the exception). The photo accompanying the article was the one that displayed the written message hanging above the torch bracket, but the others that Colin took remained stored elsewhere on Harry's orders.

It was clear that whoever did it had been a student, as the Herald reporters had managed to uncover the fact that all the teachers had been accounted for during the Halloween Feast. However, Harry didn't want to tip the culprit off before he found out his or her identity, which was why he told Luna and Colin to keep the clues to a minimum to pretend they didn't know enough yet.

Filch was also helping to keep things fresh in the minds of the students by lurking around the spot where Mrs Norris had been attacked, as though expecting the attacker to return to the scene of the crime. Harry had spotted the man scrubbing at the message with Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but since the protections on the words were stronger, there was no effect; the message remained on the wall. The students were sure that teachers such as Dumbledore and McGonagall could remove it, but didn't do so as the message was an important clue. And when Filch wasn't guarding the place, he was taking out his anger on the students, trying to put them in detention for things like 'breathing loudly' or 'looking happy'.

Unlike Filch, Harry didn't waste those two days; he spent a lot of time in the library looking up on Petrification, accompanied by Luna and Padma who were doing the same for the follow-up article. What they found wasn't much; according to Madam Pince, any magic that could pull off a Petrification was of too high a level to be found outside the Restricted Section. The only thing they could find was what Harry himself already knew, that Petrification locked its victim into an unchanging state, unaffected by the movement of time, and only broken by a counter of similar power, either a spell or a Mandrake Restorative Draught.

The logical conclusion was that the culprit was someone familiar with the Dark Arts, and since Draco had been seen taken away by the teachers directly after the discovery of the message, people began saying that it was a Slytherin who was responsible. The House had a history of being connected to the Dark Arts, and none more so than Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy.

"The older students aren't too happy with him," Daphne told Harry one day, "Thanks to him, everyone is against Slytherin now, especially the older students, since _they_ are the ones who most likely know how to cast a Petrifying curse."

Harry himself was 'forced' to talk to Draco and inform him that due to the fallout of his actions, he had no choice but to forego the idea of installing the blonde as the Student Council President next year. Draco simply nodded, with a surly look on his face; they both knew that there wasn't any alternative.

In the meantime, Harry continued on with the information he only knew. More than once, he thought of getting others to help, but when Archer reminded him that most of what he found out was due to his magecraft, Harry knew he could not bring others into it without divulging that secret. Thus, while the rest of the school watched the Slytherins closely, Harry continued searching for the Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, holding on to Riddle's Box. The most he could do was to contain the fallout by giving a statement to the Herald that until the culprit was discovered, he would believe the Slytherins innocent.

He wasn't the only one busy. Hermione, who usually spent most of her time in the library, was now doing almost nothing else, even abandoning her Alchemy studies with Harry. It wasn't until Harry caught her alone and asked directly, that she provided an answer.

"I'm trying to find out more about this Chamber of Secrets." She answered, squirming slightly under his firm grip. "I recall reading about it in **Hogwarts, A History**, but I'm trying to see if I can find any mention of it elsewhere."

Harry released her. "What does the Hogwarts book say?"

"I can't remember." She looked embarrassed. "All the copies in school have been taken out, with a two-week waiting list. I left my copy at home, because I couldn't fit it in with all the Lockhart books."

Harry groaned. _She's really been infected by the wizarding way of thinking..._

_Then enlighten her. _Archer informed him.

"Harry?"

"Hermione," Harry clapped her on the shoulders with both hands. "You could have just asked to borrow Ilya to get it from your parents."

"But-"

"Just because you don't have space in your trunk, doesn't mean you can't hold onto it here first." Harry informed her. "You can send it back later, you know."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, then growled. "How could I have been so _stupid!_ I should have thought of that myself!"

"You're welcome." Harry told her, smirking.

Ilya was promptly dispatched, but in the meantime, school continued on as per normal. Harry met up with the Council once in a while, discussing ideas on how to cheer everyone up and take their minds off the attack. On the other hand, he made sure to spend time with his study group, talking to Su, Daphne, and Susan, trying to shift the topic away from the attack and onto things less depressing, while they chipped away at the teachers' attempt at the same: homework.

"But believe it or not, it's working." Justin spoke up as he was finishing up on a History essay for Binns that most of them had already done. "I was in the library looking for books on this - didn't notice Draco Malfoy passing by until he already did. Nearly sent me running away screaming when I noticed."

"I don't think he's that bad." Harry told him.

The boy shivered. "Better safe than sorry. Some of the older students told me that us Muggleborns might be next - that's why I'm staying away from Malfoy as much as I can." He finished writing his sentence. "There, three feet."

"And just in time, too," added Hannah, "Come on, we've got to get to the next class before the bell rings."

"Have fun in History, Harry." Tracey teased as they left.

Harry mentally repressed a sigh. History of Magic, the dullest class in Hogwarts, and the class that Harry always spent doing something other than listening to the teacher. Professor Cuthbert Binns was the only ghost teacher in Hogwarts, and one of the most ineffective. Nearly all the students saw the class as a period to sleep through, with the exception of Harry and Hermione.

_Wizarding thinking states that the person who cursed Mrs Norris was a Slytherin who is linked with the Dark Arts and old enough to have the power to cast the curse. _Harry leaned back in his chair as he doodled in one of his notebooks, writing down 'Who, what, where, when, why, how'.

_What do you think, then? _Archer asked.

_That wizarding thinking fits my image of Riddle perfectly, except it's not Riddle I'm dealing with, but something of his making. _Harry wrote the words 'first-year?, Gryffindor/Ravenclaw' next to the word 'who'. _Carried by someone who belongs to either one of these two Houses. Riddle's Box. _He wrote the letters 'RB' in the 'what' section'.

_Still haven't found out who exactly?_

_All I know for sure is that the person carrying Riddle's Box lives on the upper floors, which means either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. The passages used, or rather, unused, indicates a familiarity with the hidden passages that only my maps, or longtime experience, can provide. _Harry tapped the pencil next to 'who', before writing 'Myrtle's bathroom' and 'Halloween' next to 'where' and 'when' respectively. _Why is because the person has something against non-magical born students, or Squibs like Filch. As for where... the message on the wall is clearly there for a purpose._

Archer waited for Harry to elaborate on that train of thought, silent.

_It mentions a Chamber of Secrets, which is a legend of Hogwarts. _Harry hoped that Ilya would return with the book quickly so he could find out more about it. _I don't get why someone would warn their targets... unless it's for one of two reasons. The first is to inspire fear... which Voldemort's Death Eaters did. The second is as a diversion... but I'm not sure which. But the main question that I have trouble answering is... how?_

_And why is that important? _Archer prompted.

_According to the books, magic power is limited, which is why we do not cast spells every single day. To Petrify someone requires a great deal of power, which could be the reason why there was only an attack on Halloween, as Riddle's Box could have needed to accumulate energy. It's the same reason why Dumbledore doesn't simply break the spell on Mrs Norris when he can, as it would leave even someone like him exhausted, which is foolish given that danger still lurks around the place._

_And so?_

_I've also been inspecting the bounded fields of the school. One of them detects Dark magic, but the problem is that it wasn't triggered. _Harry thought grimly. _That means something Petrified that cat without the use of a wand spell. _

Harry briefly wondered if Riddle's Box knew how to use magecraft, before discarding the idea. Archer's description of the world he hailed from made it clear that magecraft was not something that had been seen for nearly centuries in this world, and if Voldemort had made the Box while in school, when he was still known as Riddle, then Riddle's Box probably had no connection to magecraft whatsoever.

_Either Riddle's Box involves a thaumaturgic system that Petrifies, or- _Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Hermione's hand suddenly rising up. He frowned briefly and closed his notebook to focus on her.

Professor Binns took a while to notice, and broke off from his lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289 with an amazed look.

"Miss - er-?"

"Granger, Professor." Hermione spoke in a clear voice. "I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets."

The mention of the Chamber jarred everyone awake. Dean Thomas jerked out of his openmouthed trance of staring out the window. Lavender Brown's head practically shot off where it was resting on her arms, and Neville's elbow slipped off his desk.

Binns blinked. "My subject is History of Magic - I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." The ghost wheezed dryly, clearing his throat before continuing on from where he had left off, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers-"

Once again, Binns paused when he saw Hermione's waving hand. Around the classroom, students started to perk up as they realized that their dull teacher had been interrupted for the first time since they came.

"Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Harry felt a tinge of amusement to see Binns wearing an expression of amazement. He was sure that the ghost never had someone interrupt him before.

"Well," said Binns slowly, "Yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione, as though seeing her for the first time. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale-"

But the whole class was now hanging on the every single word, including Harry, who was kicking himself for not thinking to ask Binns. The ghost looked completely thrown by this unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well." Binns murmured in his usual slow manner. "Let me see... the Chamber of Secrets..."

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest wizards and witches of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

Harry watched Binns pause and peer blearily around the room, secretly thinking that those four were probably only the greatest in Britain.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinked old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much, but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing."

Harry frowned, thinking he might have a clue. He also began to write things down, just in case Luna could use this info. The girl had a streak of intelligence befitting a Ravenclaw.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleashed the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

Harry's pencil was the only noise in the room as Binns finished telling the story. He looked up to see some of his friends looking at him curiously. "What? If this is a clue that can help the teachers find the culprit, then it's good, isn't it?" He said, causing them to look away with some guilt.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course." Binns frowned at Harry, who ignored the ghost. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

_You'd think so. _Harry said silently in his mind. _But then again, I don't think much of your wizarding way of thinking._

Hermione's hand was back in the air. "Sir, what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control." Binns replied in his dry, reedy voice.

The class exchanged nervous looks, while Harry's facepalm went unnoticed. _Well, that's quite obvious now, isn't it?_

_What do you mean? _Archer asked.

_I'll explain later, _Harry told the spirit, focusing instead on Binns. _I don't want to miss anything._

"I tell you, the thing does not exist." Binns shuffled his notes (_Wait, I thought spirits couldn't touch things... _Harry thought). "There is no Chamber and no monster."

Harry grimaced. It was possible for Riddle's Box to be simply something using the legend of the Chamber as a means to disguise itself.

"But sir," Seamus spoke up, "If the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," Binns sounded aggravated now. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing-"

_Probably because they were too busy dealing with students. _Harry mused.

"But, Professor," piped up Parvati, "You'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it-"

"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore-"

_Just because a wizard's all learned doesn't mean he's a match of the likes of Slytherin. Or plain common sense. _Harry thought back in a sing-song voice. Binns was starting to get his temper up with all those rigid adherences to what the ghost perceived as truth.

_Be nice. _Archer murmured.

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't-" began Dean, but Binns finally had enough.

"That will do! It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard!" Binns snapped sharply, before taking a few breaths. "I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

"To soporific, sleep-inducing, chloroformic fact." Harry snarked, causing the boys around him to snort and stifle chuckles.

But he was right, because within five minutes, the class was back to its usual torpor.

While the students left to deposit their bags back at their respective common rooms, Harry was in a conversation with Archer, who asked more about what Harry had realized.

_Based on the clues given, Slytherin's heir will have the best traits of the man himself. That means the heir must be cunning and resourceful enough to discover what adults couldn't. _Harry thought about it for a while. _Then again, I have to say that most wizards aren't really that cunning. Too reliant on magic._

Archer nodded. _Hm, I agree with you on that. _

_But people can be cunning on their own... so the Heir must have something else. Something like a special ability only passed on through blood._

_You don't mean..._

_Yes, Parseltongue. _Harry waited for a moment. _HA! I finally managed to figure out something before you did._

_It's not unexpected, _Archer replied evenly, _considering you're the one who holds that ability. But are you truly sure about this?_

_I'll have to look things up in the library. _Harry admitted. _If there really is a Chamber, and there really is something inside there, then it's better if I was prepared for it. That means I have to find out what might be in there._

"Hurry up, Harry!" Hermione tugged on his arm. "Why are you slowing down?"

Ron was walking alongside them and Neville. "Say, Hermione, d'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?"

While Harry and Hermione still remembered the redhead's attitude towards Hermione on Halloween last year, Ron had largely managed to redeem himself by being polite to them and actually asking for help with some of his homework, even if they were overdue by then. They weren't friends, but closer to acquaintances, since Ron still had that biased attitude towards Slytherin.

"I don't know," The girl frowned. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well - human."

_He could if he really wanted to... he just doesn't want to leave himself vulnerable. _Harry could sense the old wizard's power levels, and he knew that whatever cursed Mrs Norris was a great deal stronger than Dumbledore. If the spell was broken, the man would be bedridden for a week at the very least.

The quartet turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the corridor where the attack occurred. It was just as Harry recalled it when he had returned that night and three times afterwards, except that the water was no longer present there, and an empty chair stood against the wall where the message was written. Harry could imagine Filch sitting there glaring balefully around him trying to figure out who attacked his cat.

"That's where Filch has been keeping guard." Ron muttered, clearly thinking the same.

"We've looked this place over a few times already." said Harry. "There's nothing else left to find."

He had pictures from Colin's camera. The water on the floor indicated a coincidental flooding by Myrtle, scorch marks around the floor that could or could not be a clue, the bloody message that Harry just figured out was chicken blood earlier today when he went down to the kitchens and saw the elves preparing those for the meal. There were too few clues to indicate who or what Petrified Mrs Norris.

"Come and look at this!" Hermione called the boys. "This is funny..."

Harry approached the window next to the message on the wall, where Neville and Hermione were. Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

"What's causing them to act like that?" Neville breathed.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" Hermione said wonderingly.

"No," Harry replied, digging out his notebook. "But I think it might be a clue. What do you guys think- Hm?" Harry turned to look over his shoulder.

Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run. Archer realized it immediately, and connected the dots just a moment before Harry did.

"You're scared of spiders." _And those spiders are scared of something else. But what?_

Ron nodded tensely.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "But you've used spiders in Potions so many times before..."

"I don't mind them dead," Ron said, keeping his eyes away from the window. "I just don't like the way they move..."

Hermione giggled, before Harry poked her and shook his head.

"It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely, "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick... You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and..." He broke off, shuddering.

Neville was white, his expression saying that he could imagine just what Ron had went through, while Hermione's lips twitched, trying not to laugh. Ron glanced around, and found something to change the subject to.

"What happened to all the water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."

Hermione finally managed to get over the urge to laugh. "It came from that toilet over there."

"Let's check it out then." Ron strode over to the door, but suddenly snatched his hand back before touching the brass doorknob. "Hey! This is a girls' toilet, you trying to trick me into going in there!"

"Oh, really!" Hermione huffed, walking over. "There won't be anyone in there - that's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look." She opened the door, ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign.

Harry looked around to check that no one else was around before following, pointedly ignoring Archer's smirking; even if he could not see the heroic spirit, he KNEW that Archer was laughing at his expense. Neville and Ron followed, more reluctantly.

The place was gloomy and depressing, the stereotypical setting for a haunted bathroom. The single mirror was cracked and spotted, and the porcelain sinks beneath it were chipped as well. The floor was damp, and what light there was came from a few candles that were burning low in their holders. The wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched, and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Harry frowned. There was something off about the entire place. But before he could narrow down the thing that was setting off his magical senses, Hermione made her way towards the end stall, beckoning for the rest to follow.

When she reached the end, she spoke. "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"

The ghost was floating above the toilet tank, picking at a spot on her chin. She eyed the boys suspiciously. "This is a girls' toilet. They're not girls."

"No," Hermione agreed. "I just wanted to show them how - err - nice it is in here." She waved vaguely at the old mirror and the dirty floor.

Harry groaned softly. "Remind me to return the favor next time, Hermione." He said sarcastically.

The girl elbowed his in the stomach, glancing at him sharply. Ron sniggered, while Neville smothered a laugh.

"Anyway, Myrtle..." Harry stepped in front of her. "We'd like to ask you if you saw anything when you came back here on Halloween night."

Myrtle eyed him oddly. "Oh hello, your hair's white. Were you hit with a color-changing hex?"

"No, it's natural." Harry wondered why Archer suddenly chuckled.

"What's your name?"

"Harry Potter. This is-"

Myrtle smiled shyly. "Harry Potter. That's a nice name."

This time, Hermione giggled as well, making Harry frown, wondering what was wrong with the two people closest to him. "Um, well, so did you see what happened outside on Halloween?"

"Oh, I wasn't paying attention," Myrtle said, shifting from shy to dramatic. "Peeves upset me so much, that I came in here and tried to kill myself. Oh, how tragic my life was! Misery, I tell you!" She sounded like she was milking her death for some reason.

"But you're already dead!" Ron blurted out.

"Of course! Of course I'm already DEAD!" Myrtle howled, rising up in the air, sobbing tragically.

Harry moved instantly, having recognized the signs. Thus, when Myrtle dived headfirst into the toilet, creating a huge splash of water, only Hermione, Ron and Neville got soaked. He could still hear her sobs coming from the bowl. Neville and Ron were standing there open-mouthed, dripping water all over.

"Good work putting your foot in your mouth, Ron." Neville muttered.

Hermione shrugged, ignoring the water on her. "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle... come on, let's go."

"Get dry first." Harry took out his wand and began drying the two boys while Hermione did her own clothes.

Harry's ears picked up some footsteps outside, and he quickly stopped the others before they could leave the toilet. They waited until the footsteps faded in the distance before Harry cracked the door open and peeked out. The red hair and height indicated it was Percy Weasley, walking away in the opposite direction. Putting a finger to his lips, Harry beckoned towards the others, and they slipped away without Percy noticing.

There was something suspicious about the place, and Harry made a note to return to inspect it at a later time.

However, he was forced to postpone that plan when Hermione dragged him to the study group. Deciding that he could risk it, Harry began trying to learn a few spells from the fourth-year textbook. He soon found himself engrossed in the comparison of Summoning and Banishing Charms.

From what the book said, Summoning drew the targeted object over to the caster, while Banishing was more versatile, being able to send an object away from the caster towards an indicated target. That was the simplest description of both spells, but Harry was looking further into the mechanics involved.

Interestingly, both spells used the same thaumaturgic system of forming a bond between the caster and his target, and manipulating the bond to create the effect. It didn't take long before Harry realized the underlying theory that powered the spell: everything was interconnected, the magic simply strengthened, then manipulated those connections, similar to how Harry could shape crystals with his Jewel Magecraft by pouring power into them.

Pausing, Harry stealthily took out his notebook for magecraft ideas and wrote down a coded reminder to explore that premise further.

Returning to the matter of Summoning and Banishing, they had their limits and conditions like any spell. The further the target, the harder it was to pull off the spell; depending on the distance, the cushion Harry was using either travelled halfway before dropping, or came at a high speed when he overpowered the spell. In addition, items with emotional links were more susceptible, while heavier objects were harder to move; Harry had much more ease in trying to Summon one of his books compared to one of Tracey's, and quills were a great deal easier to Summon compared to books.

As for Banishing Charms, they were harder depending on the direction the target was Banished in; a direct repulsion was much easier compared to sending a cushion flying away at a slight angle off the direct line. His experiments made him recall the time when Quirrellmort had used this spell to throw him against the wall repeatedly, and he realized one important thing: while it looked like the spell pushed its target away from the caster, there was no evidence of a push in accordance to Newton's Third Law; the soft beanbag he used only warped when it impacted something else during its flight, and not before. (1)

BANG

Harry started and looked around at the source of the sound; Hermione had her hand placed on the cover of her **Standard Book of Spells**, having slammed it shut. Her expression spoke of irritation, but Harry could see it was not the frustration that came from schoolwork.

"What's gotten into you, Granger?" Daphne asked, using Hermione's surname to indicate her own irritation with the bushy-haired girl.

"It's-"

"It's the Chamber of Secrets, isn't it?" interrupted Harry, walking over to them watched by the rest of the group. "Or rather, the person who carried out the attack, the Heir."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hannah as Hermione nodded.

Harry briefly explained what Professor Binns had told them earlier, with Hermione and Neville adding details as needed. When they finished, no one spoke.

"Do you think it really exists?" Hannah asked in a hushed voice.

Harry raised his hand. "Who here thinks it does?"

Hermione, Tracey, Su and Neville raised their hands, surprising Harry with the number of people who didn't believe in it. Honestly, he expected Hermione to side with the others due to her belief in authority... perhaps his efforts in breaking her of that trait was finally bearing fruit.

"I'm sure it exists, but it's probably hidden in a nest of Scaly Venopositers, which is why no one has found it yet."

Harry looked over his shoulder to see Luna with her hand raised as well.

"Maybe, or perhaps those who found it kept it a secret. I mean, it's in the name, isn't it?"

"If that were the case, surely someone would have found it by now." Susan pointed out.

"Let's put it this way... Daphne, hypothetically speaking," Harry looked at the dark-haired girl. "As a Slytherin, if you found the Chamber of Secrets, would you keep it a-" He didn't have to finish the question.

"Of course." Daphne replied instantly.

"There you have it." said Harry, and Daphne slumped in acceptance of his logic.

"But what if it _doesn't_ exist?" objected Hannah.

Harry thought that the Chamber really did exist, but before he could argue it further, Archer interrupted.

_It would be better to get them to figure out who the culprit is instead. _Archer advised.

Harry nodded. "Okay, fine. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. But _somebody_ attacked Filch's cat."

"The question is who that person is." Hermione followed up.

"Well, it's obvious the person hates Squibs and Muggleborns." Su commented softly.

"And he's the Heir of Slytherin." Tracey added.

George finally spoke up. "My money's on that Malfoy git." Next to him, Fred nodded in agreement.

"I don't think he's the Heir, Weasley." Daphne countered, her tone cool, making the twins bristle slightly.

"Why not?" Su asked. "According to the papers, he was there. And many other students heard him speak out too. 'Enemies of the Heir, beware' and all that."

Harry decided to head off that idea quickly. "I don't think he is either. Draco... let's just say he's attention-seeking."

The rest of the group pondered that for a moment, before Fred snorted.

"Yeah, that's true, isn't it?"  
"I can see him doing something like that." His brother added.  
"Doubt that the Chamber even exists on any _maps_ of Hogwarts."

Harry didn't miss the hidden message in Fred's statement; the redheads obviously thought that since the Marauders couldn't find the Chamber, it didn't exist. But he didn't need Archer to point out the fallacy in that line of thought; the Marauders were students, while headmasters and headmistresses stretching back centuries have tried searching.

"But if not Malfoy, then who?" Susan asked.

"A Nargle, most likely." piped up Luna.

Hermione huffed. "Nargles do not exist!"

Harry glanced around; it seemed that most of them shared Hermione's sentiment, although the twins found it funny, while Daphne and Su were better in hiding their disbelief.

"They do. Some of them are responsible for some of my things going missing." Luna insisted.

Harry didn't know why, but he felt Archer tense up in reaction to that tidbit. "Say, Luna, need me to check over the next article for the Herald?"

"Why yes, that would be nice."

Harry sent one more warning look at Hermione as he led the ditzy Ravenclaw over to a corner, while the rest of the group continued to discuss the identity of the Heir of Slytherin.

"Want to tell me more about these Wrackspurts, Luna?"

"Oh, there's no need. I'll be fine once they get bored with their games."

_That doesn't sound like any game I've heard. _

"And what games would that be?"

Luna stared somewhere over his left shoulder. "It's usually 'Hide the Item'. I don't really play, of course."

_...she's likely being bullied._

Harry gritted his teeth. He hated bullies, especially because they reminded him of what Dudley used to do. He opened his mouth to speak, but Luna suddenly interrupted him.

"Are you listening to Wrackspurts? They seem to be giving you rather good advice instead of making your brain go fuzzy like they normally do."

Harry twitched slightly, as did Archer. _She somehow managed to figure out that I'm talking to someone in my head?_

_Perhaps. You better ask further._

Harry narrowed his eyes, studying Luna's features carefully. "You don't miss much, do you?"

"I spent quite a lot of time looking around for some of the animals my father writes about." admitted the blonde.

"More than just that, I think." Harry murmured. "That look that makes everyone think you're off your rocker... it isn't really you, is it?"

"Maybe." Luna spoke in a serious tone that sounded odd on her. "Do you know your eyes twitch slightly to the left sometimes, and then you act like you're listening to someone else?"

"No," Harry was honestly surprised. "I don't."

"Well, now you do. But don't worry, you're quite good at hiding it from most people."

Before Harry could answer that, Daphne and Tracey joined him. Both were in a bad mood; Daphne had an icy air around her, while Tracey was muttering so fiercely that she almost seemed to be spitting fire.

"What's the matter?"

"The nerve of them! Asking us to spy on our Housemates!" Tracey grumbled.

"Sorry." Harry immediately apologized, knowing that Slytherin had adopted a closed ranks attitude towards the rest of the school in order to fight outside persecution. "They don't really know about your rules in Slytherin."

"Wait, you know?" Tracey demanded. "Daphne, did you-"

"No," her friend cut through before Tracey could finish that sentence, "Harry figured it out himself."

Harry raised his eyebrows when Tracey gazed at him with a bit of disbelief. Next to her, Daphne flashed a thankful smile that made her look quite pretty.

"Anyway, what about you two?"

"Of course we won't mind if you want to help." said Luna.

The two girls shared a look, before Tracey shrugged and sat down, with Daphne a short beat behind. Harry resolved to ask Luna more later, to find out just how much she managed to glean off him with regards to Archer. However, he didn't get the chance to, and eventually he was forced to postpone the idea for another day.

Later, as Harry headed back to Gryffindor tower with Hermione and Neville, they ran into Ron, who had been serving detention with Snape that day for messing up his potion during the last class. The twins had left beforehand to meet up with their friend Lee Jordan.

"I don't know how you stand it, mate." Ron told Harry. "Every time that greasy git tries something with you, you just shrug it off like it's nothing. How'd you do that?"

"Huh?"

"Harry?" Neville spoke up. "I think he's talking about those times when Snape asked you to do some of the cleaning up."

Harry suddenly recalled just what they were talking about. "Oh! That, huh? Well, I've had someone better than him try and get me angry, and besides, I had other things to think about."

_Can't believe you hardly realized Snape was attacking you with words? _Archer teased. _That sort of concentration might serve you well in future._

_Oh shut up. _Harry thought back.

"So what did he make you do?" Neville inquired.

"Not much, actually." Ron shrugged. "I cleaned a few cauldrons before he passed me off to Filch in favor of some older Slytherins, and Filch made me polish the trophies in the trophy room. What were you guys-"

"I've got it!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, making the three boys jerk in surprise.

"Got what?" Harry asked irritably.

"A possible way to find out if there really is a Heir of Slytherin." Hermione dropped her voice, looking around as they walked. "Of course, it would be difficult. And very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect-"

"Wait, Granger actually talking about breaking school rules?" Ron whispered incredulously. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Hermione Granger? And what's this about the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Oh, shush." Hermione retorted. "As for your second question, who'd be more likely to know whether there's a Heir or not than the Slytherins themselves?"

Neville snorted. "Good luck with that, Hermione. Or didn't you notice Daphne when you asked her to tell the rest of the group if she heard something?"

"Remember what McGonagall said about our Houses being like family? You were actually insulting her, you know." Harry added, teaming up with Neville to attack another abrasive trait of Hermione's.

Hermione pouted with a frown. "I apologized already, didn't I? Anyway, what we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask a few questions."

_But the person holding Riddle's Box isn't a Slytherin! _Harry yelled in his mind.

Archer shook his head. _Don't forget you're the only one who knows that. The clues your group have point to nowhere else, remember. _

_So I can't go against it... unless I quote school rules at her. _Harry eyed his female friend. _Not that she'll care the way she is now._

_Go along with it, _Archer advised, _who knows what interesting information you may find?_

_Hmph. _

"But that's impossible! What if we get caught, Snape'll kill us!" Neville was saying.

"No, it's not." Hermione smiled. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"That's the one Snape mentioned a few weeks ago, isn't it?" Harry tried to recall more details.

"Yes," She nodded. "It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us, and they would probably tell us anything. And if a Slytherin actually did it, I bet they'll be boasting in their common room, because they know they won't get sold out."

"Slimy Slytherins." Ron grumbled.

Harry wasn't alone in shooting a dirty look at the biased redhead; Neville looked like he wanted to hit the other boy for that.

"But are you sure it's okay to trust what Snape says?" Neville broke off from glaring at Ron to ask.

"It wears off after a while, but getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called **Moste Potente Potions** and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."

Harry started to get a bad feeling about this plan. "Um, I don't think-"

One of the important rules of the Hogwarts library was that the Restricted Section was off-limits to all students, unless they had a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"There's no way a teacher would let us have the book, then." Ron spoke over Harry. "They'll certainly think we plan to try and make one of the potions."

Harry tried to look to Neville for help, but the blond boy was cowed by the fervor in Hermione's eyes.

"I think that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance..."

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron, "They'd have to be really thick..."

Behind them, Harry threw up his hands in frustration, and decided to just leave Hermione to her own devices. He would follow along, if only to keep her out of trouble. Besides, just how bad could it be?

* * *

"You know, Hermione, you owe me BIG for this." Harry murmured as he walked up to the front of the class.

After the initial class of fighting against pixies, Lockhart's classes took a severe drop in excitement as the man no longer dare to bring live creatures to class, bringing down his already low reputation with the male students. However, the girls loved it even more, as the man read passages from the books to them, sometimes reenacting some of the more dramatic scenes. Harry, with the aid of arrangements with the other boys in his class, usually interrupted Lockhart during those scenes to ask more about the spells and the creatures, putting the man on the spot while preventing him from getting into a flow. Surprisingly, Lockhart actually managed to provide legitimate answers to some of them, but only because Harry kept slipping hints on what books in the library he found useful and 'good supplementary' to Lockhart's books; occasionally he saw the man stealthily reading in the library or smuggling books away from there to read in the privacy of his own room.

It wasn't the greatest class, but at least it wasn't a total flop. Harry learned quite a bit himself by helping Lockhart with his teaching.

Harry still didn't think much of the man, but he felt he had to give Lockhart credit for the hard work, even if he did manipulate Lockhart's course of action by bringing up the hopes of his student fans.

It was obvious who to pick in order to get a note of permission, but Hermione displayed some measure of human relationships by pointing out that they needed to butter up Lockhart first before asking. The method chosen was to play along with Lockhart's wishes, which meant no interruptions of his class. Since it was the boys who carried those out, and Harry, Ron and Neville were involved, it was a simple matter to arrange for things to continue on naturally for a single class. However, there was one thing about the plan that Harry didn't like.

Whenever Lockhart conducted his reenactments, he usually picked Harry to assist in those reconstructions; Harry had acted in the roles of a Transylvanian villager, a yeti, and a vampire (that one amused Archer at Harry's expense for two days afterwards). And this was one of the things that Hermione was capitalizing on: having Harry play along.

This time, Lockhart wanted Harry to act as a werewolf, and Harry actually found it good practice in acting; he particularly enjoyed trying to intimidate Lockhart by sending looks that could kill at the man, with fingers curled and twitching as though intending to claw the man to shreds, or at least choke him to death. He pulled it off well enough that nobody in class dared to laugh at him, as that brought his attention to bear on those who tried. Compared to Lockhart, the twelve-year olds were much easier to scare.

_You're twelve yourself, you know. _

Harry couldn't reply, since Lockhart was currently manhandling him.

"Nice loud howl, Harry (It was more of an 'I'll rip you to bloody bits' growl) - e-e-exactly," Lockhart fumbled his grip slightly on the front of Harry's robes. "And then, if you'll believe it (_I don't, _thought Harry), I pounced - like this - slammed him down to the floor (_You call that a takedown?_) - thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down," Lockhart blanched; while the other students couldn't see, Harry had one hand aimed lower down, threatening the man's jewels. "With my other, I put my wand to his throat - and then I screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm (_That does NOT work for werewolves!_) - he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry, higher than that (Lockhart looked away rather than meet Harry's cold green gaze) - good - the fur vanished, the fangs shrank, and he turned back into a man." Lockhart hastily released Harry and stepped back, letting him get up.

_I don't believe this guy took down a werewolf at all. The question is, why would he lie if he had the skills to deal with so many other creatures...? Geh, if I had the time, I would figure it out rather than search for that damned Riddle's Box!_

"Simple, yet effective." Lockhart announced as he patted down his robes. "And another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang as Harry got to his feet.

"Homework! Compose a poem (_You serious? _Harry thought incredulously) about my defeat of theW Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Harry grabbed his bag and left the room, nodding to Hermione, Neville and Ron in the back. It wasn't a good idea for him to be with them considering all the silent promises of murder he had sent Lockhart in the course of the class.

Three minutes later, they came right out, Hermione clutching her bag with glee, Neville looking faintly ill, and Ron in revolted disbelief.

"I assume you got it."

"We did." confirmed Neville. "He signed it without even looking at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a brainless git. I can't believe that peacock quill of his."

"He is not a brainless git," objected Hermione shrilly as they made their way towards the library.

As Hermione dealt with Madam Pince, Harry wandered over to the Care of Magical Creatures section, and engaged his magic circuits in a series of Structural Analyses.

Based on what he knew so far about the attack on Mrs Norris, Harry had come to the conclusion that Riddle's Box was a key that opened the Chamber of Secrets, which unleashed Salazar Slytherin's beast to attack certain targets. He still had no idea why Riddle's Box was in the possession of someone outside of Slytherin House, so Harry focused on something else instead, such as the released creature.

Based on the inspection of Mrs Norris, which Harry had done by helping out Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing (Dumbledore must have thought it would be harder on Filch if he saw his Petrified cat all the time, and chose to leave Mrs Norris in the Hospital Wing), and combined with the discovery that the boundary field to detect Dark magic had not triggered, Archer concluded that the source of the curse had a connection to magical nature, and thus it could only be a magical creature.

Since creatures were normally difficult to control, the boy and spirit began discussing likely controlling measures, and eventually settled on Parseltongue, due to its link to Salazar Slytherin. When everything was put together, it all pointed to the creature having some connection to snakes. And that was the reason Harry was currently scanning through several books at an extremely fast rate, in order to find a clue as to what species of creature Slytherin's beast was.

_Search criteria: connection to snakes or serpents, high level of inherent magic, magical ability that can affect others..._

"Psst! Harry, come on!"

Harry broke off halfway through, looking at Hermione, who was tucking a large and moldy-looking book into her bag. Shrugging, Harry followed after her, quietly categorizing through what he knew so far.

The first condition already narrowed things down by a large degree. Certain snakes, like the ashwinder, boomslang, and runespoor, Harry eliminated as they didn't satisfy the last condition. That left mythical creatures such as gorgons, nagas, and basilisks. Harry couldn't tell exactly why, but he had a strong feeling that it was the basilisk that was the right answer. However, he had no way of proving things yet.

"Here again?" Harry heard Ron say, and finally snapped out of it to look around.

They were in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom again, and Hermione was explaining to Ron that this was a place with guaranteed privacy because no one in their right mind would come here. With Myrtle crying noisily in her stall, the boys could see why, but as long as they ignored her, she ignored them.

The floor was dry, so Hermione sat down and took **Moste Potente Potions **out, and opened it, with the boys peering over her shoulders. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section, as some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, complete with sickening illustrations, such as a man who looked like he had been turned inside out, and a witch sprouting several spider legs out of her head.

Archer was just as disgusted as Harry was. Some of those potions were meant to be used as poisons or torture aids, as evidenced by their name or the stated effect. Harry was almost thankful to finally reach the page that held the recipe for the Polyjuice Potion. The drawings of people halfway through the transformation process was much better to look at compared to what came before, even if they had expressions of pain. Still, as he looked at the recipe, Harry felt that it wouldn't be too hard to make provided he followed the steps correctly. He felt it might be interesting to look up the theory behind some of them.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," Hermione murmured as they scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass... well, they're easy enough - they're in the student store cupboard - we can help ourselves... Oooh, look, powdered horn or a bicorn - don't know where we're going to get that-"

"Buy from an apothecary." (2)

"-shredded skin of a boomslang-"

"Buy from an apothecary." Harry repeated.

Hermione broke off reading to glare at him. "They won't sell us those, we're too young."

Harry couldn't resist. Shaking his head, he tutted at the girl. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione... believe me, buying those ingredients aren't hard at all. It'll just cost a bit of money, and it's a GREAT deal safer compared to something like say... breaking into Snape's private stores."

Ron and Neville turned white at that idea, and even Hermione looked a little unsure of herself.

"Fine! You take care of it then." Hermione turned back to the book. "The final ingredient is a bit of whoever we want to change into."

"Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with toenails in it-"

Hermione continued on as though she hadn't heard anything. "But those can wait, because they're added last..."

"Is this really a good idea?" asked Neville. "We're really breaking a lot of rules here..."

Hermione shut the book and glared at Neville, looking oddly worked up with bright eyes and a blush on her cheek. "Well, you're free to chicken out if you want. I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggleborns is far worse than brewing a difficult potion. But if you don't want to, then I'll just do it on my own."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Hermione Granger would be persuading us to break rules..." Ron said in awe.

"I'm not saying I'm chickening out," Neville said hastily, "It's just... I don't know, dangerous, I guess."

Hermione was about to say something else, but Harry put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head, which made her shut her mouth. Still, an awkward silence descended over the four of them, and Harry quickly tried to break it.

"So... how long will the potion take to make?"

Hermione flashed him a quick smile, then opened the book again. "Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days..."

"A month, then." concluded Harry.

"A month?" Ron exclaimed. "The Heir could have attacked half the Muggleborns in the school by then!" But he saw Hermione's eyes narrow dangerous, and quickly added, "But it's better than nothing, so full steam ahead, I say."

"We'll have to be really careful not to get caught while we're brewing." commented Neville.

"Here would be a good place for that." Hermione pointed out. "Like I said before, no one ever comes here."

As they were leaving, Harry's senses tingled like it did before; there was something off about the place, but once again, he was robbed of the chance to investigate by Hermione's actions. Then again, it seemed like every way he turned, something else kept coming up. It was hard to even accomplish anything, it seemed.

Harry tried again after dinner, but Filch was already there, so he went to his workshop and resumed working on trying to refine a gem's prana-filtering ability through Alchemy. He spent about an hour on it, and managed to find two processes that worked across all gems, and a few more specific to each gem type, until he was forced to stop due to his magic circuit overheating. He headed to bed early, where he spent some time sparring against Archer before going to sleep.

The next morning was the day of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match, and Oliver Wood was predictably worked up before the match, in spite of all the trainings the team went through. The rest of the team was just as uptight. Even Harry found himself getting a little tense by the time they went into the changing rooms. Once they all finished donning their scarlet Quidditch robes and sat down, Oliver began his pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," He began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers ("Too true," muttered George, "I haven't been properly dry since August."), and we're going to show them that even their new brooms can't help them score a win over us... because we've got the best team ever!"

Chest heaving with emotion, Oliver turned to Harry.

"You've done a great deal for the team, Harry, giving us all those play ideas. But we're counting on you as a Seeker now. Get to that Snitch or die trying, Harry, because we've _got_ to win today, we've _got _to."

"So no pressure, Harry." Fred winked at him.

Harry's response was to sneer back. Sometimes he regretted ever joining the team...

As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them, but there were a few boos and hisses from the Slytherins in the crowd as well. Madam Hooch was there, playing the role of referee as usual. She asked Marcus Flint and Oliver to shake hands, which they did with the expected threatening stares and hand-crushing attempts.

"On my whistle," said Hooch. "Three... two... one..."

As Harry shot upwards, he frowned. For a brief moment, he thought he smelled house elf prana, but that didn't make sense; no house elf would come to the Quidditch pitch during a match.

The Slytherin Seeker shot past him, gaining height. While the altitude of the Seeker gave a better field of view to search for the Golden Snitch, it would also put the Seeker at a further distance from it compared to the opposing Seeker, unless the Seeker had a better broom. One capable of flying faster than the opponent's.

Harry suddenly darted off to the side, just in time to avoid a Bludger from below. _What the...?_

He locked his eyes on the black ball again, his nostrils flaring. Rather than going for Terence Higgs, it suddenly turned in midair and shot straight at Harry. Once again, Harry avoided it by flying in an arc, taking a deep sniff as it went past. He wasn't disappointed.

_DOBBY! This is that goddamn elf's work, I'm sure of it! _Harry glanced down and quickly flew towards the ground.

His path crossed the Slytherin Chasers' a short distance from the Gryffindor hoops, and they paused for a moment, confused. One of the Slytherin Beaters tried to intercept the homing Bludger while the other covered the Chasers, but the Weasley twins pulled off a combination play; Fred sent the remaining Bludger to George, who deflected it towards the Beater watching the homing Bludger, distracting him enough to let it pass. Since the other Beater was in the wrong position, he was unable to block the homing missile in time, and it clipped the Quaffle-bearing Chaser's shoulder, allowing Alicia to swipe the Quaffle from him.

_Good move, Harry. _Archer praised him.

Harry tightened his grip on his broom's handle. _Not now, Archer. That Bludger's going to be problematic._

Harry's experience with Archer had taught him how to judge relative speeds near-accurately, and he could tell that this Bludger was not only homing, but it flew faster as well. If Harry wanted to avoid it, he would have to pull off dodges from time to time.

So that was what Harry did. Signaling to the twins to leave him be, Harry took the Bludger on a Slytherin-bashing trip. He flew in ways that messed up their formation, sometimes enlisting the help of Fred or George to temporarily send it off its usual path to hit an opposing player.

"Did you do something to this Bludger, Harry?" George yelled as he flew after the Slytherin Chasers to break their scoring streak. "It keeps following you!"

"No!" Harry called back. "But you can be sure I'm going to make use of it as much as I can!"

"What about looking for the Snitch?" Fred called from the other side of Harry.

"I'm looking for it! Don't worry!"

Harry suddenly performed a near-hundred-eighty degree vertical flip and flew upside down, under the rogue Bludger.

Lee Jordan was doing the commentating as usual. "Slytherin in the lead, twenty to ten- has Potter seen the Snitch?"

Looking tilting his head down to look up at the sky, Harry wasn't disappointed; the Slytherin Seeker was fooled, and was shooting down after him. Flipping himself upright, Harry continued flying down low near the ground, part of his mind predicting the enemy Seeker's flight path.

Then he suddenly jerked on his broom, shooting upwards. Behind him, he heard a yelped curse as the homing Bludger narrowly missed Higgs.

"It was a feint! Higgs is nearly hit by a Bludger, but Gryffindor manages to score! Twenty-twenty!"

It started to rain; heavy drops fell, and Harry began having trouble telling what was going on. However, the Bludger wasn't as impeded. More than once, Harry had to execute a hair-raising maneuver in order to avoid having his head taken off by it.

"Time out!" Harry quickly headed for the ground as Madam Hooch sounded her whistle, stopping the Bludger and giving him a moment to breathe.

The Gryffindor teamed huddled together, and Oliver was alternating between frowning and smiling.

"We're ten points below them, and the largest gap so far is thirty points, but we've yet to overtake them even once." His report made them all grin. "But what's going on with you and that Bludger, Harry?"

"I don't know. Someone's fixed it." Harry grimaced. "It won't leave me alone."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..."

_Really, nobody suspects what house elves are capable of, do they? _

_How true. _Archer agreed.

"The only way is for you to get the Snitch and end this game." Oliver decided. "Can you do it?"

"It'll be hard with that Bludger on my tail, but you'll need both twins in order to narrow the gap." Harry ran his hand through his hair, scattering rainwater from it. "I hate to say this, but leave it to me."

"Good man, Harry." Oliver clapped a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly before releasing him. "We're counting on you."

"If you were any less skilled on a broom, I'd say you were insane." Katie said to Harry. "But good luck."

One by one, the rest of the team wished Harry luck. Madam Hooch came over to check on them, and the game resumed.

The rain was falling more heavily now. Harry Reinforced himself and the broom to prevent any slipping while compensating for the chilly weather. He performed flips, loop-the-loops, sharp turns, and several other maneuvers to avoid getting hit while using his pursuer against the Slytherins. Occasionally, he would fly alongside one of the twins in order to have them hit the Bludger away and increase the distance between them, buying him precious seconds to look around for the Snitch.

His flying style was more tiring than he had ever experienced before; both mind and body were worked to its limits as he flew continuously without rest, subjecting his body to severe forces with all the sharp movements that kept him safe from the Bludger while trying to keep track of the rest of the game through the heavy rain that blotted out all but the smallest details.

Then he saw it, just as he performed a twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger - the Golden Snitch. It was a tiny speck of yellow in the silvery wall cast by the rain, but he didn't doubt it was anything else. Bending low on his broom, Harry blasted straight for it.

Higgs had seen it too, and he was flying down towards it.

Both hands were outstretched, fingers open, ready to grasp the tiny golden ball.

A silence fell over the stadium. Whether it was the crowd or just his focus blotting out what he heard, Harry didn't know.

Ten meters... eight meters... five... two...

A drop of rain suddenly hit Harry in his left eye, making him blink and flinch. He felt something brush against the back of his fingers. He had missed it.

_Not yet. Don't give up so easily. _

Harry suddenly felt Archer aiding his body, and gave over control willingly.

His wrist twisted, his arm bent and jerked inwards; something else touched the outside of his hand. Harry's body tilted to the left, and sent his whole body into a barrel roll.

Then suddenly, the rain came back with a loud roar. Harry's foot slipped, and he rolled off the broom, hanging onto the handle with his left hand. He needn't have worried; his feet hit the ground less than a meter beneath him.

Panting, Harry pulled his right hand away from his armpit, wincing; it felt sprained. But inside his fingers was a small golden ball. He had caught the Snitch.

"I caught the Snitch!" Harry yelled, starting to raise that hand.

"Harry, LOOK OUT!" Someone screamed.

He turned to see the Bludger heading for him. Once again, everything seemed to slow; he could see the twins rushing to stop the Bludger - they wouldn't make it. Madam Hooch had her whistle in her mouth, but it wouldn't stop the Bludger if it wasn't a time-out. It looked like no matter what, he was going to get hit.

_Like damn hell! _Harry's temper suddenly explode, and his body shifted on its own.

His right foot swung back, planting itself into the muddy ground behind him, while his left knee bent slightly. Harry drew back his right hand, with the Snitch still inside. All twenty-eight of his magic circuits were coursing with energy, Reinforcing his body to the utmost limits.

Then he punched the Bludger with a vicious overhead hook, sending the black ball deep into the ground.

Harry regretted it almost immediately afterwards, as his entire hand suddenly felt it was on fire. He thought he could hear a good deal of whistling and shouting, but it sounded so far away he couldn't be sure.

"Oh well," Harry murmured. "We've won."

He wanted to faint, but his will kept him standing. Something shifted the earth near his feet, and he stepped on it, keeping the Bludger from attacking him again. After that, things began to fade in and out of his perception; he felt someone take the Snitch from his hand, his foot getting shifted to retrieve the Bludger, then someone grabbing him and putting his arm around their shoulders.

"Whazzuh score?" Harry mumbled.

"Let me... arm up..."

"Two hundred and thirty to ninety. You did great, Harry, really spectacular. Have a rest now. I'm bringing you to the Hospital Wing, you're burning up." He recognized the voice, but his mind refused to supply the name.

"...worry... simple charm... countless..."

Realizing he forgot to shut off his magic circuits, Harry did so, just as some strange and unpleasant sensation washed over his hand. He felt his watch on his left wrist heat up, but the exhaustion he had held back with Reinforcement crashed down on him, and Harry blacked out. For a moment there, he thought he heard some gasps and screaming, but there was nothing he could do about it in his current state.

* * *

(1) This is to raise a point that made me think in the third book. When Lupin pressed the knot to make the Whomping Willow freeze, he did so by sending a twig to do the job. Why didn't he just cast a spell directly at the knot? That's how I started the comparison of Banishing and Summoning. I recall one fanfic where Hermione tried to explain how Newton's Third Law was being ignored, but she didn't check the caster's magic core, and the tutor called her out on it. So to summarize, Banishing, which was what Quirrellmort used at the end of my first arc, caused damage to Harry by slamming him against the wall, not by hitting him first, then sending him crashing into the wall behind.

(2) Borrowed from Almost a Squib again. Seriously... I think the wizards' closed thinking comes from their growing up at Hogwarts. Which explains why Harry isn't, because he's dealing with magecraft that belongs OUTSIDE Hogwarts, ergo, thinking outside the 'box'.

This chapter borrowed quite a bit from canon, with the usual alterations. I was intending to explain more about Harry's search for Riddle's Box, but surprisingly, as I was following canon, the Quidditch match came up, and so I chose to have things end at the end. I'm sure it's clear what happened to Harry at the end, though thanks to the enchantments on the watch, he didn't lose the entire arm.

Well, I have nothing else to say for now, so please leave your reviews!


	19. Seventh Curse

When Harry came to, he almost couldn't believe it when his Structural Analysis informed him that he no longer had bones in his right hand. And when he finally saw it for himself, the floppy piece of flesh that resembled a thick glove, Harry nearly exploded with rage.

Madam Pomfrey was just as angry as he was.

"They should have brought you straight to me!" The woman grumbled as she examined the remains of Harry's hand. "I can mend bones in an instant, but growing them back..."

Harry directed his attention to Hermione, who was standing by the bed. "Just how did this happen? Last I know, punching a Bludger does NOT cause the bones in the hand to vanish."

"You punched a Bludger?" Madam Pomfrey shrieked. "What on earth were you thinking?"

He ignored the woman. "Well?" demanded Harry.

"It was Lockhart." Neville was the one to reply. "He was intending to fix your hand, but ended up removing the bones instead."

"Anyone can make a mistake," Hermione insisted. "Professor Lockhart must not have much practice."

_I don't think he EVEN practiced any medical spells. _"How's my hand?" Harry asked Madam Pomfrey, feeling a cool sensation wash over it. "How do you regrow bones?"

"I fixed your bruises and torn muscles, but regrowing your bones will be much harder. "It'll be painful, and you'll have to stay the night..."

She Summoned a set of pajamas and thrust them at him. Neville helped Harry to change while Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around the bed; it took a bit of care to put his boneless hand through the long sleeve. Archer was expressing his amazement with the wonders wizarding magic could do, since regrowing bones would have been very much wanted in the non-magical worlds, both his and Harry's.

"I don't get what that Lockhart's thinking." Neville murmured. "He says he did all that, but there's just no evidence that he did any healing."

"No there isn't." agreed Harry. "Let's talk about something else, shall we? I'm getting mad just thinking about that guy."

The way Harry was currently feeling, he was fairly sure he would punch Lockhart in the face repeatedly if the man showed up right at this moment. Thankfully, Lockhart did not turn up, and Harry finished changing

"Okay." Neville pushed back the curtains and drew up chairs for both him and Hermione. "I'm sure you already know this, but we won-"

He was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey and Hermione, the former holding a large bottle of something named Skele-Gro. Harry's analysis of the potion revealed its powerful magical strength, and he didn't doubt that it would actually regrow his bones. Now that he calmed down slightly to think, a curse that vanishes bones was actually quite advantageous; Nicolas had taught him about bone breakers - they hurt quite badly, but were easy enough to fix, just like using a Reparo spell. On the other hand, once they were vanished...

_Something that only be fixed by this potion, huh? _Harry eyed the steaming beaker he was supposed to drink.

"You're in for a rough night." Madam Pomfrey told him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

And so was taking Skele-Gro, Harry discovered. It burned going down, causing Harry to cough and sputter. Still grumbling about the craziness of people who played dangerous sports, Madam Pomfrey retreated back to her office, leaving Harry alone with his two friends.

Or many friends, as the doors opened to admit the rest of his group, including the other members of the Gryffindor team, who were still filthy and soaking wet.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George.

Oliver nodded. "The scouts would have snapped you up if you were there."

"But what was wrong with that Bludger? It kept focusing on Harry alone." Daphne said, frowning.

"But the Bludgers were locked in Madam Hooch's office since the last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them..." The group murmured worriedly.

_Really, everyone here underestimates house elves. _Harry kept his mouth shut. He would have words with Dobby the next time he saw that elf.

"Let's not worry about it!"  
"We won and that's what matters!"

The twins threw their arms around each other's shoulders, grinning.

"That's right!" bellowed Oliver. "So let's party!"

The team members had brought sweets, cakes and bottles of pumpkin juice, which they distributed to the rest of the people there, despite certain House differences. Unfortunately, just as it was shaping up to be a good party, Madam Pomfrey stormed over and chased them out.

"This boy needs rest, he's got twenty-seven bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

Fred slipped Harry a different bottle before they left. "Something extra for the victor." The redhead winked.

Harry waited until Madam Pomfrey went back to look at the bottle. It was Butterbeer. Raising an eyebrow, Harry opened up the bottle as quietly as he could, and took a sip. It tasted extremely good, giving him a warm feeling that made him realize how cold he had been all this while from flying in the freezing weather. Feeling a bit whimsical, he raised the bottle in a toast to himself, and took a gulp.

But when he lowered it, his expression was serious. _What should I do now, Archer?_

Archer was familiar with Harry's thoughts, having linked minds with the boy for years. So he only needed to ask one question. _Lockhart, or Dobby?_

_Lockhart. That man is getting on my nerves. _Harry's grip tightened slightly on the bottle. _He's been becoming a nuisance... honestly, his actions have already disqualified him as a teacher in my book, and what he DOES teach actually comes from me._

_So are you going to eliminate him?_

_What? No! _Harry was shocked. _I'll just avoid him. If the curse on the position is real, then all I have to do is last until the end of the school year. Just how- _Harry stopped himself.

Archer didn't mention of his host nearly invoking Murphy's law on himself. _What about Dobby?_

_That... I'm not too sure myself. _Harry admitted. _He's done two things so far, stopping my mail to make me think I don't have friends waiting for me at Hogwarts, and sealing up the barrier at King's Cross. Both done with good intentions, but ultimately to stop me from being at Hogwarts._

_Mm hm..._

Unconsciously recognizing the prompt, Harry continued on. _I'm quite sure that when Dobby sent that Bludger at me, it was meant to injure me... probably enough to get me sent out of here... _He shuddered, trying not to think about how much damage it would take for that to happen.

_So what will you do next?_

_Get him to back off a little... until I can find and defuse Riddle's Box. I only hope he'll listen to me. _Harry tilted the bottle back, but only felt a few drops land on his tongue. _Huh?_

_You were drinking it without realizing it. _Archer informed him.

_Oh. Guess it was just that good. _Harry set the bottle aside and laid back on the bed, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his right hand. _I'll just go off to... sleep..._

Hours later, Harry jolted awake in pitch darkness, hissing in pain; his hand felt like he slapped a porcupine with it repeatedly. But his mind was focused on something else instead; the cool wet feeling on his forehead from where someone had been sponging it.

"_Dobby!_" Harry intended to grab the elf around the throat, but sometime after he fell asleep, somebody drew the covers over his body, and thus his left arm was impeded.

The house elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness, and there was a tear running down his long nose.

"Harry Potter came back to school," He whispered, his voice miserable. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why doesn't Harry Potter see that he is in danger at Hogwarts?"

Harry pushed himself upright, grimacing as he shifted his right hand. "Because my friends will be here. And if there's anything I can do... I will do it."

Dobby began weeping even more. "So brave and noble, Harry Potter! But no, 'tis too dangerous. Harry Potter must leave Hogwarts."

"And I'm telling you I won't." Harry countered.

The two of them stared at each other for a while, until Dobby looked away to wipe his eyes on the dirty pillowcase he wore. Looking at the elf blowing his nose in such a pathetic state made Harry's anger ebb away. He knew that house elves weren't given clothes, but from the condition of the pillowcase, Dobby's situation at home wasn't good. Reinforcing his eyes to see through the dark more clearly, Harry noted several other injuries, both old and recent, on Dobby's body, particularly the hands and ears.

"Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir!" The elf tried to persuade him again.

_Well, that proves my theory right. _Harry thought flatly. "And your reason?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, tearing up even more. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sir... And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."

Dobby froze, horrorstruck, but Harry had already recognized the signs and managed to free his hand. So he quickly hit Dobby right between the eyes with a finger flick that sent the elf rocking back.

"There, you're punished. Now shut up and let me think..."

Dobby nodded furiously while Harry fell silent.

_Terrible things are to happen, perhaps happening already... _Harry repeated in his mind. _An indication that Riddle's Box really did do something. Mrs Norris, I'm assuming. History is to repeat itself, that means this happened before, the question is when? And the last part..._

_The Chamber of Secrets is open once more. _Archer added. _It appears that the message wasn't meant as a diversion, but an actual threat._

_But if that's true, then I shouldn't be in danger, because I'm not non-magical born. _

_That's a reasonable point. _admitted Archer.

From the way Dobby's initial warning was phrased, the danger was not directed at Harry, which was why he could be warned. Yet in the same way, Dobby had made it sound as though Harry would be purposely targeted. It was as though there was some kind of autonomy to the culprit behind the attack that made it likely for Harry to be targeted directly. It didn't make sense right at the moment, but Harry was starting to get a bad feeling about the reason that would explain everything. His instincts were telling him that the discovery would be extremely dangerous.

"Dobby, can you tell me when it was opened last time?" If nothing, that would be a good clue to go on.

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't! Go home, Harry Potter!"

Harry shook his head as well. "No way. I can't leave everyone here to face the danger alone."

"Harry Potter risks his own life for others!" Dobby moaned in a kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must, Harry Potter must not-"

Both of them suddenly stiffened and turned to look at the door. They could hear footsteps coming down the passageway outside. There was a sharp crack, and the last Harry saw of the elf was his terrified expression before he vanished.

_Quick, lie back down! _Archer warned.

Harry didn't need to be told twice; he slumped back down on the bed, keeping his eyes trained on the door through narrowed eyes.

The footsteps continued to approach, and as Harry watched, the doors opened to reveal Dumbledore backing into the hospital wing, wearing a long woolly dress and a nightcap. He looked to be carrying a statue, the other end of which was carried by Professor McGonagall. Madam Pomfrey came hurrying after them, pulling on a cardigan over her nightdress. Harry felt a thrill of fear, knowing that he wasn't going to like this turn of events.

He Reinforced his ears after hearing a sharp intake of breath, but he didn't really need to, since the place was so silent that the slightest sound was audible enough.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, who was bending over what Harry was sure was a Petrfied victim.

"Another attack. Minerva found him on the stairs."

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him." said McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter." (1)

Harry couldn't see well from this angle, but he reasoned that the three adults were too preoccupied to notice, and raised himself up slightly to take a better look. When he saw who it was, Harry felt a heavy feeling sink down into the bottom of his stomach.

Illuminated by a beam of moonlight, Colin Creevey lay on the bed clutching his camera in front of his face, eyes wide open and unblinking.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," McGonagall replied. "But I shudder to think... If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knows what might have-"

_Somehow I doubt Dumbledore's actions are _that_ coincidental. _Harry thought as he watched the three adults stare down at Colin's frozen body. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" There was an eager note to McGonagall's voice.

Quietly, Harry slipped out of bed and shifted to the next one, taking care not to make any of the bedsprings make a sound. He had the same thought as McGonagall, and he didn't want to miss a thing.

Dumbledore didn't reply, but opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey.

A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera, and Harry, two beds away, caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic. However, he also caught something else as well; nearly overwhelmed by the stench, was a brief tinge of prana that indicated the work of a curse. With his experience with curses from his time with the Flamels, Harry instantly identified the nature of the curse as extremely potent.

"Melted," Madam Pomfrey murmured wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this mean, Albus?" McGonagall asked urgently.

"It means," Dumbledore replied quietly, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

Harry frowned as he kept his eyes closed, facing the ceiling. _How does he know that for sure- Oh of course, he must have been around when the Chamber was opened before... and probably encountered the same conditions. What do you think, Archer?_

_I'm of the same mindset. _Archer sounded annoyed. _It appears that your Headmaster is keeping secrets again... _

Harry's lips twitched in a barely withheld smirk. _I'm going to sic Luna on him then._

McGonagall gasped. "But, Albus... surely... who?"

"The question is not who," Dumbledore's eyes were on Colin. "The question is, how..."

Harry could see McGonagall's face; she didn't understand this in the slightest.

But he could understand Dumbledore's meaning. He was very sure that Dumbledore knew that Riddle opened the Chamber before. But how could Riddle have done so this time without being present?

_Dumbledore's looking for the cause, but surely it would be better to examine the symptoms? _Harry thought irritably. _A student was attacked this time!_

Harry intended to wait for the adults to leave so he could examine Colin on his own, but he didn't realize that Madam Pomfrey already knew he was awake until she came back from seeing the other two away.

"It's useless pretending to be asleep, Mr Potter." The woman said crisply. "I am hardly going to miss noticing that one of my charges is not in the bed I left him in."

Harry opened his eyes. "Sensory charms on the beds, I assume?" He mentally kicked himself for missing that.

"Correct. Now get back into your proper bed. I know Mr Creevey was a friend of yours, but there's nothing you can do for him."

Harry sat up and swung out of the bed, but on the opposite side. "I disagree, Madam Pomfrey. There _is _something I can do for him."

"What?" In spite of herself, Madam Pomfrey sounded curious.

Harry moved over to Colin's side, peering down at the Petrified boy. He had Archer examining the boy through his eyes as well, but he wanted to try and figure out things on his own before relying on the spirit. Colin might have been an irritating fanboy, but with most of it toned down in order to focus on working for the Herald, Harry considered him bearable enough to qualify as a distant friend.

"No outer signs of being cursed, no wounds... Colin was Petrified..." Harry stopped.

"Did you figure something out?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Harry groaned. "It's not really proven, but I just thought of something..."

"What?"

"Greek mythology, a gorgon petrifies by making eye contact." Harry leaned closer to examine Colin's wide eyes. "Colin has taken many pictures before, but lately he only does so if he sees something interesting, either for personal interest or for the Hogwarts Herald."

Harry imitated the position of Colin's hands with only his left, holding a nonexistent camera up to look through the viewfinder, turning to face an ashen Madam Pomfrey.

"Are you saying a gorgon did this? But they no longer exist anymore, and even if they did, this isn't Greece."

Harry shook his head. "I'm saying that both Mrs Norris and Colin were cursed through their eyes." He glanced at the frozen body. "It's not good... the thing that did this is extremely powerful."

Madam Pomfrey realized what he was referring to. "The camera... the film was destroyed, but Mr Creevey was still Petrified to this extent..." Her voice was hushed.

_Naturally magic creature related to snakes, curses its targets through the eyes... _Harry thought back to the relevant law of magic. _This isn't second-year level magic - good thing I read up on it. _

_Mystic Eyes... _Archer muttered.

_Is that what they're called in your world? _Harry asked. _Actually, I was thinking of magic that works through the connection made by eye contact. Like they say, eyes being the windows to the soul._

_Oh. _Archer said in comprehension. _Then what I'm thinking is slightly different. Mystic Eyes are eyes that have the ability to interfere with the outer world. While it's related to what you're saying by the affecting of something unrelated to the caster, yours is based on a connection rather than outright enforcement of effect._

_Sounds like something worth researching into. But I think this settles it... the beast is most likely a Basilisk._

* * *

Despite his interrupted sleep, Harry rose early on Sunday morning like he had trained his body to do. Madam Pomfrey came bustling over to check on his condition, bending his wrist and fingers this way and that to check that it was functioning correctly. Harry already knew that his hand was fine, just feeling numb at the moment.

"All in order." She pronounced as Harry got changed into the spare set of robes Neville brought for him. "You heal fast, Mr Potter. You're free to join your friends for breakfast."

Harry nodded and left the Hospital Wing, noting that the bed Colin was lying on was hidden behind high curtains. When he reached the Great Hall, there were only a few other students present, and one of them was Hermione. He sat down in front of her and started filling his plate.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" She asked him.

Harry raised his right hand and flexed the fingers slightly. "Still a bit stiff, but other than that, I'm fine. Never mind that, something has happened."

He quickly filled her in on the events of last night, and when he finished, Hermione was wide-eyed with shock.

"The Chamber is _real_?" She whispered.

"Apparently so."

"And what's this about a house elf named Dobby?"

Harry blinked. "Didn't I mention him before?"

"No, I don't believe you did." Hermione hissed, annoyance on her face. "Tell me."

Sighing, Harry began talking. He told Hermione about how Dobby had approached him at home with a warning not to return to Hogwarts this year, and the actions Dobby had taken to stop him from doing so. She seemed rather shocked to find out that the blockage at King's Cross and the fixed Bludger was the work of Dobby, but Hermione soon moved on to the more important issue: the Chamber of Secrets.

She nodded approvingly when he told her about the conclusions that he had arrived at. Harry smirked when Hermione realized that he took inspiration from Pandora's Box to name the item they were looking for, and she agreed that it was a good idea. However, he still kept his magecraft a secret, which meant he could not tell her about his suspicions of the holder being a Gryffindor.

"So Riddle's Box is the cause of all this?" Hermione asked, and received a nod in response. "Then we must find it before anyone else gets hurt!" She declared.

"And where do you intend to start?" _Maybe she'll think of something I missed, _reasoned Harry.

"The Slytherin common room, of course." Hermione said as though it was obvious. "The Chamber of Secrets was built by Salazar Slytherin in the first place, so where better to search for clues?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were going to find Riddle's Box and not the Chamber?"

"It's just like last year, Harry, don't you see?" Hermione lifted a finger in a lecturing pose. "If we can find out where the Chamber is, we can lie in wait and catch the culprit!"

"And what happens if the beast comes out and Petrifies us?" Harry retorted. "You'll end up missing a lot of classes while waiting for the Mandrakes to mature."

"There are things more important than studying."

They heard a gasp, and turned to see Neville standing there.

"I don't believe it..." The boy said hoarsely. "Hermione Granger... said that studying isn't the most important thing."

"Oh come on!" Hermione snapped irritably. "I'm not that bad. Am I?" She asked both boys.

The looks they gave her more than answered the question. "You were, at least." Harry told her.

Hermione huffed, making the boys smile amusedly as Neville sat down next to Harry to eat his own. They were soon joined by Ron, who congratulated Harry on his performance in yesterday's match, which had extended the lead Gryffindor had.

"Though it'll soon be gone with Snape taking points off." The redhead remarked after swallowing the sausage he was devouring.

Whatever he was going to say after that was interrupted by a familiar dreamy voice. "Good morning, Harry."

The white-haired boy turned around to see Luna. "Morning, Luna. There's something you should know."

She tilted her head to the side. "Has something happened to Colin? He's normally here by now."

_I had forgotten that she's very perceptive. _Harry nodded to her. "You better have a seat for this."

The news of Colin's condition left Neville and Ron pale, while Luna looked even more zoned out, if that were possible. Looking at the blond first-year, Harry thought that it was a very deceptive way to hide her thoughts, and resolved to approach her sometime soon. Somehow, he felt he could trust her a little.

But he didn't have the chance to do so, as Hermione dragged the three boys out of the hall once Ron finished his breakfast, and led them to Myrtle's toilet, slipping in and locking the door behind them.

"With another attack, I think it would be better if we get going." said Hermione as she dug out a cauldron and several other Potion equipment. She looked at the stalls, and went into one of them. "There. Prepare the base, would you, Harry?"

They soon had the cauldron perched on top of a toilet bowl, with a blue flame crackling beneath it. Harry was preparing the knotgrass by cutting it up while Hermione checked over the potion recipe once more. Neville and Ron just stood to the side watching the two of them work together like a smoothly-oiled machine.

"Um, do you really need the two of us?" Neville asked. "You know how bad I am at Potions."

"That's mainly because of Snape, and you've improved greatly compared to how you were originally." Harry replied absently. "You can help by inspecting the plant ingredients." He tossed a bundle of knotgrass over at Neville. "It wouldn't be good if there was something wrong with them."

"What about me then?" demanded Ron.

The other three exchanged looks, then said as one, "Lookout."

Ron grumbled, but accepted his role. Despite the general agreement, however, he did help out a little with the preparations, mainly the addition of ingredients to the cauldron on Hermione or Harry's instruction while they prepared other things.

Harry wanted to approach Luna regarding how she managed to notice Archer's presence, but he found himself unable to get the girl alone. Every time he checked the Map, Harry saw her name next to someone else's. Luna was busy working on an article reporting Colin's attack, and apart from a single interview on Colin's Petrification conducted with the presence of Madam Pomfrey since they were the two people around, Harry hardly exchanged more than a few words with the Ravenclaw.

It was very aggravating for Harry. Part of him wanted to go around the castle tearing up the place in order to locate Riddle's Box, but thankfully Archer and common sense kept him from doing so. He returned to the library to read up more on Basilisks, and found more evidence to corroborate his findings; it was hard to see any spiders around the place, and the few he did find were scuttling out of the castle. As for the part about the cry of the rooster being fatal to a Basilisk, it only took a trip down to Hagrid's to find out that someone had been killing his roosters.

He also discovered that Luna had been by already, asking the same questions. Harry found himself impressed by the girl's reporting skills.

The news of Colin's attack spread around the entire school by word of mouth by Monday, and the air became thick with rumor and suspicion. However, when the article came out on Tuesday morning, it had a great effect in dispersing most of the bad atmosphere.

In the article, it stated the belief of the beast being a Basilisk, backed up with circumstantial evidence, explaining how Mrs Norris and Colin only ended up Petrified as they hadn't seen the Basilisk directly, but through water reflection and a camera viewfinder respectively. As Harry read the article, he didn't need Archer to tell him that people with Parseltongue would be immediate suspects due to the serpent-controlling factor.

Dumbledore awarded Gryffindor and Ravenclaw a hundred points apiece for Harry and Luna's work realizing it was a Basilisk, and imported dozens of roosters to place around the school. It was slightly annoying to have the place echoing with rooster crowing, and the teachers taught their classes under sound-omitting charms while bag-eyed students fought to pay attention through their lack of sleep, but everyone agreed that it was a necessary sacrifice until the teachers found the Chamber or confirmed the death of the beast.

The sleep interruptions took their toll, and Harry reluctantly agreed to suspend any Council events for the time being. His study group also spent more time napping than actually studying, and if not for the teachers agreeing to reduce the amount of homework, some of the students would be falling behind. Snape proved to be the exception, but with only two teachers (the other was Binns, who was simply being a stick in the mud) sticking to the usual amounts of homework, it wasn't much of a problem.

Potions class was a harrowing session for the four Gryffindors. Harry warned the others not to make eye contact with Snape, and if they did, to think only about whatever was happening in class. He knew that brewing a restricted potion was just asking for trouble, and the last thing they wanted to do was to get caught. To that effect, Harry began performing a bit more poorly than he usually did, giving Snape the opportunity to tear into him in exchange for taking the heat off the others. It wasn't a difficult task; Snape pounced on anything less than perfection.

Harry also spent more and more time working on his Jewel Magecraft, putting a bit of effort into Tracing and bounded fields occasionally. He was fairly confident about trying the refinement process with a high-quality gem soon, and briefly wondered where to go on from there. But until he witnessed the final effects, there was nothing he could do.

Shortly before December, Harry finally managed to get Luna alone, cornering her near his workshop.

The girl stared expressionlessly at him, making Harry blink.

"Are you intending to silence me?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

_I believe she suspects you to be the culprit behind the attacks._

"Is the voice in your head telling you to get rid of me?"

"What? No!" Harry shook his head furiously. "What made you think that?"

"So you're not the one behind the attacks? Then who is it you're talking to in your mind?" Her questions came back hard and fast.

"Perhaps we should talk about this somewhere else?" Harry asked.

Luna suddenly lost her serious persona, her eyes going dreamy. "Okay. Since you asked and all."

Harry found himself taken aback by the shift in personality, and silently led a humming Luna to his workshop, which he allowed her to enter. Contrary to his expectations, she went in without any hesitation, despite the fact that she would be cornered in the room. Luna was acting as though he wasn't about to hurt her, and that threw Harry off even more.

"Just how perceptive are you?" demanded Harry.

"Perceptive enough." Luna smiled at him.

Harry frowned. "You know, for someone who thought I was going to silence her, you're rather relaxed."

"That's because you won't silence me." Luna replied glibly.

"And how do you know that?"

The blonde smiled without saying anything.

_It's rare to see someone who can read others so well that she can guess a person's intentions. _Archer commented. _Perhaps she might be able to help you find out who's holding Riddle's Box._

Harry nodded, but before he could say anything, Luna spoke first.

"So who were you listening to?" The girl had her head tilted to the side, looking at him inquisitively. "A Wrackspurt?"

Harry responded with a sardonic look. "No, I'm listening to the spirit of a hero from an alternate universe."

Luna blinked. "That sounds hard to believe."

Harry scrunched his eyes up, feeling the beginnings of a headache. _Look who's talking... _"Well, it's up to you whether you want to believe it or not-"

"Oh, I do believe you."

_No, definitely a migraine. _"Uh huh. Anyway, what made you think I was intending to silence you?"

"People who listen to the voices in their head tend to do odd things, wouldn't you agree?" Luna opened her eyes wide, projecting innocence.

The headache intensified further. "I suppose so..."

"But since you're listening to a hero, that means it's okay."

_I can't tell if she's doing this on purpose or not... _Harry grumbled in his mind, then decided to change the subject instead of letting her direct the flow of the conversation. "There's something I need your help with."

Luna tilted her head, this time towards the opposite side. "What is it?"

Harry quickly gave an explanation of how he could detect magic, and was trying to find Riddle's Box. To Luna's credit, she only needed a brief explanation of Dobby's warnings to arrive at the same conclusions Harry had, and much faster than he did. Her speed made Harry consider giving her an IQ test, but passed on that in favor of listening to her reply.

"So you're looking for either a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw? Possibly a first-year?" She asked for confirmation, and Harry nodded. "I see..."

"You're quite accepting of all this." Harry noted.

"I can see you're telling me the truth, or what you think is the truth, Harry Potter." Luna shrugged. "It doesn't hurt me to play along for now."

"Thanks for that."

Luna paused for a moment. "There's a way to determine whether the person holding Riddle's Box is a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw." She announced.

"Really? How?"

"Just go into the Ravenclaw common room and see if you can smell anything." said Luna matter-of-factly.

Harry gaped at her for over ten seconds, before standing up and going over to the wall. He began knocking his head against the stone gently, repeating 'Stupid' with every knock. It didn't help that Archer was laughing at him as well. He had been so blind as to follow the most obvious clue that he had forgotten to consider other alternatives.

"That looks painful." Luna commented.

A few minutes later, Harry sent her out of the room with his thanks and a request to tell him about anyone else acting suspiciously, and began planning on sneaking into Ravenclaw tower. He wasn't worried about her speaking up about Archer's existence; most people considered her to be slightly loony already, and were unlikely to believe her.

The act of entering Ravenclaw tower was even easier than he expected; under his Invisibility Cloak, Harry slipped into the tower behind a group of students putting away their bags before dinner, and took a good sniff of the place.

The scent of that odd prana was nearly non-existent, which meant that the person holding its source was a Gryffindor.

Harry found it a bit hard to eat that Sunday night. He kept looking up and down the table, wondering which of the students was hiding Riddle's Box. He also began to wonder if the person holding the Box was actually behind the attacks, or simply an indirect cause.

It was in this state that Harry could be found walking around the seventh floor afterwards, trying to train his nose to differentiate tiny differences in the level of the smell. After half an hour of this, Archer finally stepped in and told him to take it easy for a bit. Harry agreed, and began practicing his Structural Analysis on the walls, paintings and tapestries. Occasionally he would pause to talk to the paintings, or watch the characters within go about their own actions.

Pausing at a particularly funny one of a wizard getting clubbed by trolls in tutus, Harry suddenly picked up on something altogether new. Turning around, he scrutinized the apparently empty stretch of wall. Approaching it, he placed on hand on the cold stone.

_Archer... what am I sensing here? _Harry asked, closing his eyes as he fired up a magic circuit to probe the wall.

_It's some kind of bounded field, but I've never encountered one like this before. _The spirit replied. _ Strange... somehow it seems familiar, but how can that be?_

"Structural Analysis." Harry whispered. _Hmm, I don't sense anything behind it except for normal stone, but it's like there's a bounded field contained _within _the stone itself._

_I believe that is EXACTLY what you're sensing. _Archer agreed.

_But that doesn't make any sense! How do you erect a bounded field within an occupied area? It would be like trying to divide a single object into two different planes simultaneously! _Harry tried to recall what he could of the magecraft books. _This... I have no idea what this is..._

_It doesn't appear to be dangerous. _Archer reported. _Do you want to try triggering it?_

Harry nodded. _But how?_

_Explore around the area first._

Harry began examining the wall with his eyes and magical senses, going over each stone carefully. It didn't take long for him to uncover what was possibly the entrance.

_An area of the wall... in the shape of a door. _Harry realized. _Is this a concealment field? I can't sense anything but stone within the boundaries of it, but perhaps it fooled my senses... Just who could have put something like this up? _

He paused, thinking to himself for a moment, before pulling out the Map. Harry checked the place where he could see the dot bearing his name, only to see that there wasn't any room corresponding to the location.

_Could this be where the Chamber is? _wondered Harry, then he shook his head. _No... if it was, then the spiders wouldn't have been heading upstairs- _Harry paused in the middle of the memory of seeing a line of spiders go up the stairs towards a window on the higher floor. _Damn, I gotta remember that, it might help narrow down the general location further. _He took out his notebook and wrote down that clue. _That means the Chamber is somewhere on the lower floors... then what's hidden here? _

Keeping in mind to think outside of conventional knowledge, Harry began to check up further on the field. What he found shocked him; the thing was fuelled by the energy of the castle itself, based on the leylines present beneath the school. The work was extremely old, he realized; whoever made this place did so more than half a century ago, if not during the construction of the castle itself.

_Very good. You're using your senses to collect information as well. _Archer complimented him.

Harry squinted at the edge of the outline of the door, wondering just how to activate it. It didn't appear to have any secret switch for him to trigger. Putting prana into the thing didn't work either; the wall didn't respond at all, and the prana simply slid off. Harry was almost considering blasting it, moving back over to the left side to see if he had missed anything. He started working his way across once again when something happened.

_Harry! _Archer warned, as they both felt a flare of prana.

Harry instantly leapt back from the wall, and stared at what was happening in front of him. Before his eyes, a large door, fitting the area of the wall he had identified previously, appeared from the stone.

"What the-?" Harry breathed. "Where did that come from?"

_I have no idea, but it seems you've inadvertently activated the bounded field. _Archer said solemnly.

Advancing cautiously, Harry reached out and touched the door, probing it magically once again. Like before, he could sense the bounded field; it occupied an apparent area of the stone behind the wall, spilling out slightly in the shape of the door. But now, the boundary wasn't as solid as before; there was a hole right where the door was. Or perhaps hole was the wrong description, since the field would open and close with the door.

_I didn't know that was possible. A boundary field that moves with the door? _Harry blinked as he gripped the handle.

_I've never encountered that myself, _Archer admitted, _But I suppose seeing something new shouldn't be surprising. _

_Alright... here goes. _Harry took a breath and tugged.

The door swung open silently, and the boy's eyes widened at the sight of what lay within.

The first thing that went through his mind was how something so huge could be hidden within an area so small; the room within was the size of a cathedral, with ceilings that stretched higher than the Astronomy Tower itself. But what stood out the most was the many towering piles of junk around the place, somehow forming a makeshift city complete with walls, roads and alleyways.

_This is... _Archer whispered.

"Daaaamnnn..." Harry breathed out.

The whole place was the work of generations, items in varying states of condition, though mainly damaged in some way or other, stacked upon each other in a weird sort of organized chaos. There were thousands of books, either lying on the floor or slotted in some small gap among the rest of the junk. Harry could sense Archer looking at the various rusted weapons, some of which bore the evidence of blood. There were also everyday items such as hats and cloaks, as well as pieces of jewelry that interested Harry with their potential for use in his Jewel Magecraft.

Harry's nose twitched, then he broke out in a fit of sneezing. The smell of prana in this place was immense; out of all the items he saw, nearly half of them were magical in some way, and because of the damage to their vessels, they were leaking prana at a high rate. It took him several minutes before he finally managed to get used to the heavy smell. That was when he realized something was up with Archer.

_What's wrong? _He asked.

_Now I know why this seemed familiar... This is like a Reality Marble! _exclaimed Archer.

Harry couldn't help but ask, since he had never come across that term in his magecraft books. _What's a Reality Marble?_

_It is a manifestation of one's inner world on the outer. _Archer explained. _It literally rewrites reality, replacing an area of the world around the user with his Self._

_So... these things aren't real? _Harry bent down to pick up an empty bottle. "Structural Analysis."

_No, that item's real. The place itself isn't._

_Wait, so all this, _Harry looked around at the things around him, _are stored in a pocket dimension?_

_That's correct. _Archer paused for a moment before continuing. _But that's why it's _like _ a Reality Marble. I've never come across a Reality Marble that doesn't have an originator._

_Tell me more about this Reality Marble? _Harry started walking through the junkyard city, mostly breathing through his mouth to avoid being overwhelmed by the prana smell.

Harry continued to study several items as he moved among the towering piles, listening to Archer's explanation of the basic workings of a Reality Marble. As a wizard, he could understand the Marble analogy quite well, although his way of comparing the two was slightly different.

_So a Marble Phantasm would be like using a Summoning Charm; it doesn't change anything, but the possibility of getting the target is a hundred percent. While a Reality Marble would be Transfiguring the black marbles into white; everything's changed the way it's needed, so all I would have to do is to reach in there and pick out any of them. _Harry concluded.

_Correct. _

Harry paused in mid-step. _Archer... that world of blades... that's your Reality Marble, isn't it?_

_What makes you think that?_

_The place... I don't know how to explain it, but it's _yours. _That's... _Harry shivered. _That's a bit scary. You're a blade. You're all of those blades._

Archer closed his eyes. _Yes._

_But this is strange. _Harry changed the subject. _Supposedly, if this place is a Reality Marble, then Gaia should be working against this, but I don't detect any breakdown._

_That's-_

_If it's a normal Reality Marble, _finished Harry, _I know, I know._

He checked his watch. There was another one and a half hours till curfew, but with his Invisibility Cloak, Harry was sure he could stretch it to three hours. Taking a look around, he took note of a few interesting items, but refrained from touching them. Even without analyzing, he could tell that some of them were dangerous. On a whim, he took an experimental sniff, and ran through the scents he picked up.

There were several charms; Harry recognized the familiar smell of shrinking and animation spells. A few others had a wild scent to them, reminiscent of the magical creatures he saw occasionally at Hagrid's, but they also had a slight rotting stench of death. Some burned his nose with their irritating smell; those were the curses, and ranged from the mildly irritating to lethal. Then Harry picked up a familiar smell.

_House elf? Ah... I see now. The reason why it's rare to see anything broken around the school is because the house elves collect them and dump them here. _Harry mused to himself. _Ah, in that case, maybe they do know what this place is. I'll have to ask them next time._

Then Harry suddenly froze. Not daring to believe it, he closed his eyes and took another sniff, this one bigger than before. Once again, he sorted through the myriad of smells, pushing out the ones he already identified, and setting aside the ones he wasn't looking for...

_There! _Harry's eyes opened wide when he picked up a familiar scent. _That smell! It's here somewhere in this room!_

It was faint, but somehow, not as diluted as Harry had encountered it before. He referred to the initial experience as diluted as the carrier moved around, dispersing the prana smell around the castle. This was different; it seemed more concentrated, as though it had been in the same place for quite some time.

_Odd, I thought Riddle's Box would be with its carrier... _commented Archer.

_I thought so too... unless this prana smell isn't indicative of Riddle's Box. _Harry began to sniff around. _But it might be worth a try to see if I can find out just what is giving off the smell._

It was a difficult task at first; the faint scent often vanished, mostly whenever Harry drew too close something magically potent. Compounded with the few wrong turns he made in the odd labyrinth, it took a full two hours before Harry finally narrowed down the source to a general location. Within the area, the smell remained at the same level throughout.

Harry cursed softly when he tried to locate the center of the entire area by mapping the surroundings, only to give up when he realized how big it was and the junk piles throwing off his sense of direction.

_Looks like I have to search for it manually... _Harry looked around the place. _Approximate diameter of... forty meters? That covers a HUGE number of stuff. _

He tilted his head back to look up at the top of the mountain in front of him; it was at least four times his height. Luckily there were a few old but usable brooms around the place if- when, Harry corrected himself - he needed to go up high.

Sighing, Harry engaged his magic circuits to the task, thanking whatever deity he knew that Structural Analysis could go straight into the center of those piles, or he would have to shift everything just to get at the center.

* * *

"You're looking tired lately, Harry." Fred commented one day in the middle of December, as they sat with the Hufflepuffs.  
"Training finally getting to you?" His twin pitched in on the other side.  
"Or is it the roosters?"  
"Or the homework?"  
"Or the-"

"Ha, ha. Enough already, guys." Harry covered a yawn as he speared the bacon with his fork. "I've just been busier than usual, that's all."

George dropped his voice and leaned in close. "In your workshop?"

Actually, Harry had spent nearly all of his free time searching through what he now knew as the Room of Requirement. After his first time in there, Harry had went down to the kitchens to talk to the elves there, who were only too happy to tell him about what they called the Come and Go Room.

It was beyond his expectations. A room that would become whatever its user wanted? No wonder Archer said it resembled a Reality Marble; the bounded field locked onto a single desire in its user's mind, and produced the setting to match it. However, Harry could see that it was too complicated for him to understand at the moment, and decided to just use it for now until he could learn enough to comprehend the Room.

But apart from a few times when he needed to cut loose with spells that he didn't dare to use in the privacy of his workshop, Harry only called up the Room of Hidden Things, in order to search for the source of the prana smell. So far he had managed to go through five item piles already, discovering all manner of magical tools and ingredients. It was severely distracting, and without Archer there to keep him in line, Harry might have gotten sidetracked with some of the jewelry and books he found. As it is, he made sure to put them aside in a visible trunk, which was already half-full.

Yet he was no closer to finding the source. Harry had started in the approximate center of the place, working outwards in a slow spiral. It netted him many things, except the thing he was looking for. He didn't have any proof, but he suspected that some of the magical items was throwing him off the trail.

_Just have to keep searching... _The sound of fluttering wings made Harry look up. _Ah, it's here._

Ilya came flapping down, bearing a fairly large package in her claws. Harry frowned slightly, smelling the potent magic through the wrappings before it even reached him. Untying the package from around his owl's legs, he slid his plate over to her so she could eat a little. He flipped open the note that came with it; it wasn't that expensive, but it was fairly costly. Harry felt lucky his creations were selling better than they ever did, especially after Lockhart inadvertently advertised his Calligraphy Quills.

He still didn't like the man, however.

"Hermione." Harry tossed the package over to her. "Books from your parents. Just don't read them in the _toilet_."

She caught it and tucked it into her bag, her face flushing slightly as those who overheard Harry chuckled in amusement.

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Mr Longbottom," Professor McGonagall called from the Gryffindor table, where she was walking alongside with parchment and quill. "I need to know if you will be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas."

Neville answered for them, having come to an agreement beforehand. "I'm not staying, Professor, but they are."

Archer had noticed Neville seemed unusually down when he said he wasn't staying for Christmas, and pointed it out to Harry, who decided not to probe into it. However, he had a feeling that the issue was related to Neville's parents, and it reminded him of how he went to visit his parents' grave last Boxing Day.

However, he wasn't going to do that this year. The timing of the Polyjuice Potion coincided with the Christmas holidays. It was also a good opportunity to slip into the Slytherin common room since there would be a smaller chance of anyone catching on to them. They made their excuses to their respective parents, citing a wish to experience a Hogwarts Christmas for once. Oddly, Draco was staying as well, which Harry found a little suspicious.

Hermione left the hall first, followed by Neville and Ron, and finally Harry, who met up with the rest of them in Myrtle's toilet. Hermione was already there stirring the cauldron, having added the recently-obtained ingredients already.

"It'll be ready in two weeks." She announced happily.

"Christmas eve." commented Neville.

"So what's the plan?" Ron asked. "We drink this potion, turn into one of the Slytherins, sneak into their common room, and look for clues about the Chamber, right?"

Hermione nodded, but Harry was shaking his head. "A bit too general, Ron. Do you even know where the Slytherin common room is? And which Slytherin are you planning to turn into anyway?"

Ron looked lost. "Uhhh..."

Neville let out a whistle of awe. "I'm starting to think I'm lucky for not going with you lot."

For some reason, all four of them laughed at that. But Harry had raised a valid point; their plan needed polishing. Harry volunteered to search for the Slytherin common room and the password required to get inside, both of which could be easily accomplished with the Marauder's Map, but Harry, Hermione and Ron needed to choose who they wanted to change into. According to Hermione, it was best if they chose someone who was staying over during the holidays, because then it wouldn't be odd to be seen in the common room, unlike someone who was supposed to be out of the castle.

However, Harry did not account for something else.

"My parents wanted you to spend Christmas at our place." Daphne told him in a no-nonsense tone. "In fact, Tori has been wanting to see you again. She'll be... disappointed."

Harry was feeling very uncomfortable. "Umm... sorry?"

The black-haired girl stared and stared, making Harry fidget. Just as he was about to break down and say something, Daphne spoke first.

"I have no idea what you're trying to do, but I, and Tori, expect proper Christmas presents."

"Of course!" Harry agreed instantly.

She suddenly smiled widely. "Good. See you after the holidays, Harry." Daphne patted his cheek, and left, leaving Harry feeling like he had just been conned.

Su just told him to have a good holiday when he told her, and to write to her about it. The Chinese girl seemed so quietly disappointed that Harry couldn't help but feel a little bad. He silently promised to make it up to her somehow.

Susan also mentioned that her Aunt was interested in meeting him, and if he had to be honest, Harry also wanted to meet the famous Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. However, he was forced to say no once again. Still, Harry wrote a letter for Susan to pass on. While he might be busy with the matter of Riddle's Box, Sirius Black was still on his list of things to resolve, and Madam Bones was one of the ways to deal with it.

Unlike last year, Harry did not have much interaction with Dumbledore, and he liked it that way. With the help of the twins and Chaser trio to persuade Oliver, Quidditch training was put on hold as well, giving Harry a much-needed breather.

He spent most of that time searching through the Room of Hidden Things for possible Christmas gifts for his friends. While most of the things were damaged in some way, quite a few of them could be fixed with a simple _Reparo _or some other cleaning charm, and then there was the occasional lucky find. It might be a bit cheapskate of him, but Harry felt that if he had access to the Room, he might as well use it.

Hermione got two books on complicated Charms, while Neville got one about rare African magical plants. He found a book on magical self-defense and another one on taekwondo for Susan. Daphne and her sister received earrings with gems in them, repaired through Alchemy and checked for dangerous enchantments. For Su, Harry found an interesting device that resembled one of those perpetual motion toys, except it didn't rely on any connecting parts, just a few spheres that moved around a central point in various arcs. It was slightly dented and easily fixed through Alchemy, and the charms on it were easy enough to renew. As for the twins, Harry found a few interesting prank items he was sure he had never seen the joke shop in Diagon Alley sell, and packaged it all up with a note telling them to work on reverse-engineering them.

All these presents were stored in a trunk next to the first one in the Room, waiting to be sent out for Christmas. The rest of his study group got candy, which he bought through owl-order from Honeydukes.

Another week passed, and Harry's interesting finds required him to get a second trunk to hold them, but he was still no closer to finding the source of the prana smell. The teachers were beginning to ramp up the homework load again, and his Assignment Quill was seeing an increase in sales.

They were doing more complicated Transfigurations, with less relation between the starting and ending forms. Harry was the second to perform the owl-to-book change, after Hermione. She started teasing him for losing out to her in his preferred field, only to eat her words later when Harry performed the Ventriloquism Charm before she did.

Potions was stressful as ever, despite Snape putting them to work on Sleeping Draughts. It spoke of Snape's ability to intimidate his students when he could keep every one of them awake despite the sleep-inducing smell rising from their cauldrons. On the other hand, Herbology was more relaxed, with some time set aside every class to check on the Mandrakes before they moved to Greenhouse Two to work on less dangerous plants. Neville continued to outperform the rest of them in Professor Sprout's class, and occasionally helped them out in assignments to repay them for the help he received in other subjects.

As for the other classes, Astronomy and History of Magic were just as unchanging as before, although Professor Sinestra did provide new material to work with, unlike Binns, who just went on droning about the Internal Federation of Wizards and their response to the goblin rebellion of that time.

Lockhart no longer called on Harry in class, as Harry really knew how to give a murderous look. The first time he tried in spite of it, Harry refused, saying that his right hand was still feeling the effect from the deboning at the Quidditch match. Lockhart stammered and picked Dean instead.

The Hogwarts Herald continued to report on news in the school, and as time passed without any further attacks after Colin's, people began to relax slightly. Still, Harry did not relax, knowing that the Basilisk was still around; all one had to do to check was to set loose a spider within the walls, and it would try to scurry out of the castle. Clearly, wherever the Basilisk was, it was somewhere a rooster's cry couldn't reach. It became a daily routine to see a spider released in the Entrance Hall every morning, and each time, the spider would head out the front doors, no matter how many feet were in its way.

As he was heading down for breakfast after a particularly late night of searching, Harry was considering resuming the work with the Student Council when he saw a small knot of people clustered around the notice board in the Entrance Hall, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Hermione beckoned him over, looking as excited as those around her, but slightly troubled as well. Feeling a bit suspicious, Harry approached.

"Harry, did you plan this?" asked Hermione, indicating the parchment.

Squinting, Harry read what was on the notice. "No... looks like Draco's been pulling on the reins again."

_A Dueling Club... sponsored by the Student Council... only Draco would do this. _Harry had brought up this issue as an idea before, but the attacks caused him to postpone it.

_He's trying to drum up popularity for himself. _Archer observed.

Sure enough, Harry found himself being approached by Su and Hannah about it, and he had to admit that he knew nothing about it. They quickly realized that it was another of Draco's plans, and were all for confronting the Slytherin. But Harry stopped them.

"You can't be serious! You were the one who thought of it first!" Hannah exclaimed. "He's undermining your authority like this!"

"Not as much as you think." Harry smiled mysteriously.

His reaction baffled those that knew him, but Harry didn't say anything else. At eight o'clock, he, Hermione, Ron and Neville all went down to the Great Hall. In place of the long dining tables was a single golden stage stretching along one wall, lit by the many candles floating overhead. Most of the school was there, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they made their way through the crowd, students letting Harry pass once they realized he was there. "Someone told me Flitwick-"

Harry interrupted, "He's not. I asked."

"Then-"

Hermione's question was answered when Lockhart came walking up onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum, and accompanied by none other than Snape in his usual black.

The man waved an arm for silence. "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to head this little dueling club, a nifty little idea that came from your very own Student Council!" Lockhart looked around and easily spotted Harry. "Give them a round of applause for their efforts!" The audience obliged, and Hermione flashed Harry a quick smile.

_You called it. _Archer said, amusement in his voice. _He referred to the Council as a whole, so Draco only gets shared credit._

"Now, I shall be training you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works."

_Which are full of contradicting accounts, _added Harry silently.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

The reaction of the crowd showed that they were divided on that issue, and Harry overheard Ron muttering to Neville his hope that they finished each other off. Harry looked at Snape; the man's upper lip was curling, showing a glimpse of his teeth. It was a decidedly murderous expression for the dour man, and if Lockhart wasn't facing the crowd and not seeing it, he would have been running away from Snape instead.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, while Snape simply gave an irritable jerk of his head. Having been trained by Nicolas on what to look for, Harry could see that the Potions teacher was the far more experienced dueler, and had no illusions about Lockhart's chances.

He turned around. "Five Galleons on Snape casting first. Another five on Snape finishing with the first spell."

There was a quick exchange of money as several people accepted the bet, with Hermione huffing in annoyance. Harry managed to list down the names of those who took the bets, and turned back just as Lockhart finished counting to three.

Both men swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "_Expelliarmus!_". Harry squinted just in time to prevent himself from being dazzled by the flash of scarlet light, and saw Snape's spell leave his wand and smash into Lockhart's chest, blasting the fop off his feet and causing his wand to fly out of his hand. It was clearly overpowered; Lockhart flew backwards, flipping head over heels, and smashed into the wall before sliding down it to sprawl on the floor.

There were quite a number of cheers, while a few girls were understandably worried. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes to see over the crowd.

"Do you think he's alright?" She squealed.

Harry sighed. _Regressed back to fangirl mode again... _He turned around to collect his winnings, which left him with a hefty bag of gold.

_Don't give up, Harry. _Archer encouraged.

Ron and Neville both said together, "Who cares?"

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" He said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious (_Quite... both of them were telegraphing... I think Snape's out of practice)_ what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Lockhart must have noticed Snape's expression growing even darker as he rambled on, because he quickly turned around to face the crowd again. "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville and Justin together, but Snape reached Harry and Hermione first. He saw Harry raise an eyebrow, and paired them with other people; Hermione was paired with Ron, while Snape called Draco over to pair with Harry. The blonde looked rather put out, probably from not receiving special mention from Lockhart at the beginning. Harry just stared expressionlessly, turning his body slightly to hide his wand hand.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"

Harry inclined his head, while Draco twitched his. Both of them didn't take their eyes off each other.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them! - we don't want any accidents. One... two... three-!"

Draco had already started on two, but Harry was prepared for it. He easily sidestepped the spell, which was a Headache Hex, but didn't retaliate. Seeing that, Draco grimaced and began casting other spells, only to have Harry dodge each of them with minimal movements.

_It's very easy to tell where he's aiming. I'm only making a few mistakes in reading him, but nothing bad enough to get hit. _Harry tilted his upper body out of the way of a blue curse, and suddenly flicked out his wand hand. "_Expelliarmus._"

Unprepared for the sudden counter, Draco was easily disarmed, and Harry caught the wand out of the air.

"Stop! Stop!" Lockhart was screaming, clearly unprepared for the chaos that occurred when he simply set a crowd of students loose.

It was Snape who took charge. "_Finite Incantatem!_"

Harry could feel a heavy pulse of prana spreading outwards from the man, it shattered every single other spell in the hall, and the residual prana collected above the heads of the students as a haze of greenish smoke. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting, but smiles on their faces. Ron was being helped to his feet by Hermione, who only looked slightly ruffled. Other students weren't as lucky; there were a few unconscious ones, and some of them had injuries. Harry held Draco's wand out to him, and had it snatched out of his hand.

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells." Lockhart said after he finished going through the crowd dealing with the aftermath of the duels by giving advice. He glanced at Snape, before looking away quickly. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart." Snape glided over like a large and malevolent bat. "Those two will hardly suffice with their less-than-adequate skills."

Hermione hissed angrily; Neville and Justin were actually enjoying trying to disarm each other earlier, and did much better compared to others. Both boys had been excited about the chance, but now Snape had shot them down.

"How about Malfoy and Potter?"

Harry noticed Snape give Draco a quick look, and saw the younger Slytherin smirk at him. He didn't need Archer to see that there was something else going on here. Sure enough, Draco went over to his Head of House, who leaned down to whisper something in his ear.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing for Harry and Draco to go to the middle of the room as the crowd backed away to give them space. "Now Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this-"

Harry stared as Lockhart attempted some complicated sort of wiggling action, only to drop his wand. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops, my wand is a little overexcited-"

_What's so funny about that line, Archer? _Harry asked in confusion when he heard the spirit's chuckling, but received no answer.

Harry already knew that Lockhart was trying to show him how to perform a spell deflection, which he already knew from training with Flamel. But he didn't want to show his full abilities at the moment... unless he used Draco's weaknesses against him... Harry suddenly smirked, making Draco falter.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

_Like hell I'm going to drop my wand. _Harry thought furiously.

"Three - two - one - go!"

_REINFORCEMENT! _Harry flooded his circuits with prana, and focused on Draco.

He could see the wand rising up slowly in his accelerated state, and Draco's lips opening as he began his spell incantation. Harry moved even faster, and managed to get his own spell off before Draco even finished the second syllable. Then he spoke a single word.

"Voldemort."

Draco suddenly flinched, and a sound like a firecracker went off; he went stumbling back yelling in pain, but a long mottled green snake had dropped to the floor out of the wand. It was a horrendous sight, there were molten scars all over it, and in some places bone was showing through. It raised itself up, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd swiftly backed away, clearing the floor.

Harry eyed the snake, clenching his jaw. Of all spells he could have used, Draco had used one that could expose his Parseltongue ability. He raised his wand; he didn't want to reveal his ability to cast silently, but he had no choice.

"Allow me, Harry!" shouted Lockhart.

The man brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; Harry silently cursed as the snake flew ten feet into the air instead of vanishing, and landed near Justin with a loud smack. Hissing angrily, it slithered straight at the boy and bared its fangs, preparing to strike.

Only to have Harry's left hand clamp down just behind its head. Gritting his teeth, Harry held the snake out and pressed the tip of his wand to the body near his hand, and with a muttered spell, blew a small hole into it. He then tossed the dead snake back onto the floor, and Snape Vanished it with a frown.

"Bloody hell, Harry! I think you've just saved my life!" Justin breathed.

* * *

(1) Sometimes I wonder about the English language. Shouldn't she be saying 'sneak DOWN here'? Gryffindor tower's on the seventh floor, and I'm pretty sure the Hospital Wing isn't that high.

So Harry won with two things and a single spell: the tendency of wizards to flinch at Voldemort's name, the peculiarity of hawthorn wands backfiring when spells are badly handled, and finally, the Ventriloquism Charm. And he managed to keep his Parseltongue ability hidden.

So, there's been a lot of changes. Really, I don't understand just how wizards can be so blur as to not realize it's a Basilisk given the number of clues present. Then again, maybe it's not a matter of being blur, but them just their unwillingness to stick their necks out. How else do you explain a group of Death Eaters sending a whole bunch of wizards who outnumber them into panic?

Oh well... anyway, no update last week as school has started, and my muse wasn't working too well. This year's workload looks a lot harder than before...

Read and review, guys! Give me your opinions on my changes, particularly Luna! She's the best character to use in fanfics, because she can be explained in SOOOO many different ways!


	20. Eight Curse

Harry's actions at the Dueling Club had raised his reputation considerably, eclipsing Lockhart's by a great deal. It was compounded by the fact that the man had abandoned the idea after what happened, but Harry recognized the potential and suggested to Professor Flitwick that the diminutive teacher take over, something that Flitwick agreed to after Harry roped other people into asking as well.

The backlash Draco suffered left him with second-degree burns that were magical in nature, forcing the blonde to endure a stay in the Hospital Wing with his wand hand wrapped in potion-soaked gauze. When Harry visited him, he found out that Draco seemed to have little to no memory of how he had been injured, and was all set for blaming Harry until Harry had reminded him that hawthorn wands gave a nasty backlash when a spell failed. After that, Draco calmed down quite a lot, and solemnly promised that he would not lose a third time.

On the other hand, Harry now found himself being accompanied by a group of students nearly everywhere he went outside of Gryffindor tower. It wasn't explicitly stated, but he didn't need Archer's advice to realize that beating a Slytherin had won him a few enemies in that House. Justin was actually starting to match the currently-Petrified Colin Creevey with his fanboy attitude, a fact that made Harry shudder; one was bad enough, he didn't need a second one. He was thankful for the girls who noticed and helped him by running interference.

Herbology was canceled due to the weather suddenly dropping a blizzard on them, prompting Professor Sprout to put socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, as it was important for them to grow quickly so Mrs Norris and Colin could be revived soon. Encouraged by Harry, Neville asked for, and got permission to observe as she did so, and came back in the evening grinning.

"Had fun, Neville?" Harry asked as he watched Hermione's chess game with Ron.

"Oh yes." The boy nodded, dropping his wet cloak into the laundry basket and joining Harry on the couch.

Ron shook his head. "I don't see how you can find it fun. Mental."

"Ron! That's very rude, you know." Hermione chided, then frowned as the horse of Ron's knight trampled her bishop beneath its hooves.

"Sorry, Neville." The redhead apologized

Neville waved it off. "It's okay. What were you doing, Harry?"

Since Harry couldn't go to the Room of Requirement without being followed, nor go down to Hagrid's due to the blizzard, he spent the whole time in the library looking through past copies of the Daily Prophet to find out what happened to Sirius Black. It wasn't much of a success; Archer realized that there was something suspicious going on when Harry couldn't find any news pertaining to a trial, one which he should have had after murdering twelve mundanes. But there was a silver lining, as the photos of the scene were very informative about what apparently occurred, and Harry knew he had another angle to research into.

But this was a personal issue with Harry, so he simply said, "I was just flipping through some old newspapers in the library."

"Seriously, am I the only normal one in this group?" demanded Ron. "Neville thinks gardening is fun! Hermione, you study nearly every moment you can! Harry flips through old newspapers when he's BORED! You're all bloody mental!"

Harry exchanged looks with the other two. Part of him was offended at Ron's insensitivity, the other part, well...

"Have you ever considered the idea that maybe we're the normal ones and you're the one that's mental?" Harry asked mildly.

Hermione caught on right away. "Indeed. Parvati and Lavender talk about makeup and fashion."

"And Dean puts up posters of his football team." Neville added, a smirk already playing on his lips.

"Merlin's balls." Ron breathed. "What, just what is wrong with everyone? I... I gotta get out of here."

The redhead scrambled to his feet and dashed out of the common room. The trio exchanged glances again, then after a few seconds, burst out laughing.

_I think I understand why you do that sometimes, Archer. _Harry thought as he gasped for air.

_Do what, Harry? _Archer replied innocently.

"That was a bit cruel, but I have to admit, it was quite funny." Hermione said in between chuckles.

"How long do you think before he realizes that we're just having him on?" Neville smirked.

"At least an hour, we think."  
"Our little brother isn't exactly the brightest in the group."

The twins dropped into Ron's vacated place, and began packing away the chessboard.

"And as you may have noticed-"  
"His manners are lacking quite a bit."  
"Between you and us-"  
"We refer to it as 'Open mouth, insert foot'."

The three younger students snorted at the brutally true description. Ron's lack of tact was a very well-known fact in Gryffindor, only matched by his poor eating habits.

Harry noticed Ginny Weasley watching him from her corner where she was pretending to do her homework; the girl would look away whenever he turned in her direction, and he groaned when he saw the blush on her face.

_Maybe I should motivate Fred and George with money? _Harry wondered idly.

_Not a good idea. _Archer rejected immediately.

Harry inclined his head in a slight nod. _You're right. Not a good idea._

He let himself fall out of the conversation, staring out the window at the swirling flakes of snow while thinking about what he would like to do with Jewel Magecraft next.

If Harry's estimation was correct, he could begin testing out the Alchemical alteration process on some of the gems in the Room of Hidden Things. On the other hand, there were various other factors to consider, such as the cut of the gem; according to the book Daphne had lent him, the cut of the gem affected their ability to hold and amplify the magic in the stones. However, he had no idea what sort of effect this would have with regards to his magecraft. There was the chance that things could blow up in his face, and that was something Harry wished to avoid.

_I'm going to need equipment and practice for that part. _He decided. _If I'm right, the Room will supply the equipment I need if I ask properly... hmm, maybe it'll go further than that._

_That Room is very useful, isn't it? _Archer remarked.

_Quite. Now if only I could narrow down the source of this damn smell... _Harry looked around the room again, making Ginny squeak and duck her head down.

The school term looked as though it would end without any incident, and Harry began to relax a little. The roosters around the castle were still irritating the population with their infernal crowing, but complaints had mostly stopped as the students grew accustomed. But in the end, a large number of students signed up to go back home for Christmas, which was just the opportunity Hermione was after.

"I was hoping for more people to go, but I suppose this will have to do." She said to Harry and Neville as they watched her stir the potion.

The twins initially tried to use Harry's reputation as a sort of a joke, by going around proclaiming him to be the Heir of Gryffindor. Harry's response was to let the girls loose on them. With people like Hermione, Daphne and Susan, all of whom knew spells beyond their grade level, the outcome wasn't entirely unexpected.

"Well played, young Harry, well played." George complimented him after they located him in the library.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry bluffed.

Fred made as though to say something, before changing his mind and asking, "So what are you doing in here?"

"Looking for interesting spells."

Fred and George exchanged looks, then grinned. "Mind if we join you?" asked George.

Harry grinned back. "Go ahead."

Between the three of them, they managed to build up quite a list. Harry helped them out by directing them towards charms that would aid their future career aspiration, such as protection spells that were meant to be used to protect a potion brewer from his mistakes.

There was another series of rooster killings, but apart from that, the term ended without further incident. Silence fell over the castle with the snow, blanketing it in cold and quiet. Once again, the Weasleys were staying over Christmas rather than visit their elder brother Bill in Egypt with their parents. However, Percy claimed he was only doing it to support the teachers, and didn't spend much time in the common room. That suited his siblings just fine, because they could then be as boisterous as they liked.

Harry didn't mind the noise, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. Now that his usual followers weren't around, he usually spent his time watching over the potion, catching up on his non-magical studies. After all the interruptions he suffered, the subject once again seemed altogether new and interesting, leading to Harry absorbing the knowledge at a fast pace.

He also spent his free time getting back up to speed on physical training. Running in the snow was hard, but he went through with it. Apart from that, he used the Room to create training dummies for him to practice against.

That was the scene that could be seen in the Room of Requirement a few days before Christmas.

_Behind me! _Harry ducked underneath the punch and snapped a leg out, smashing his foot into the knee of the animated doll.

Even as the construct stumbled, he was moving on to the next attack, jumping up and spinning around with an elbow to where the head was; the dummy crashed to the floor. Panting, Harry flicked his wand into his hand and bound it up in ropes, to join the rest of its compatriots around the room in the same state. Then he noticed something.

"Oh no you don't!" shouted Harry.

He Reinforced his body and sprinted over to where the last free dummy was untying another. It tried to react, but it wasn't fast enough to stop Harry from punching it hard enough to throw it several meters away, and it was quickly tied up as well. A bell rang somewhere in the room, and the dummies faded into nothing as glowing numbers appeared on the wall

_Three minutes and forty-six seconds, and you used body Reinforcement four times_. Archer reported. _You've improved._

"Not as much as I... like." Harry wheezed, falling back... into an armchair that appeared out of nowhere. _This Room really is useful._

_You went up against ten armed opponents using mainly hand-to-hand skills, and you didn't inflict a single fatal injury. That's something to be proud of at least._

"Not enough... It's not enough." Harry muttered.

_If that's what you think, then why not try it with everything you have?_

"Everything?"

_Your body, your magic and magecraft, and your mind. Use all of them together. You'll be surprised._

Harry shrugged and got up. His body recovered quickly, and he could still feel the effect of adrenaline. "Fine, let's try it with twenty."

The Room responded instantly, and twenty dummies appeared around him, each carrying a small replica of a wand. Seeing that, Harry realized that the Room matched his determination to use everything by giving the dummies the use of magic in addition to their fighting skills. The bell rang, this time sounding the start of the battle.

Harry moved instantly, Tracing two throwing knives in his left hand and flinging them into the feet of the closest dummies while he dashed in the opposite direction, smoothly drawing out his wand and firing off a Stunner point-blank into the face of another.

Before that dummy had even begun to topple, Harry shot off another three spells, two aimed at the floor and the third at the wrist of a construct about to aim at him. Pillars of stone burst up from where his spells hit the ground, and smashed powerfully into the bodies of another two dummies, while Harry yanked on the sticky string that connected his wand to the target's wrist, causing its spell to hit yet another.

He didn't stay immobile for long; darting towards another dummy, Harry kicked out its left knee, then felled it with a right hook. Flicking his fingers, he twirled his wand into a reversed position and jabbed it towards the side, silently casting a Disarming Spell that sent a replica wand into the air.

His magic circuits were humming excitedly, as Harry rolled under several spells and came up with a sweeping foot that sent another dummy falling to the ground. Without having to look, he flicked his wand upwards.

"_Diffindo!_" A crack let him know that he destroyed the airborne wand with that single spell. "_Stupefy!_"

The dummy he had aimed at swiftly countered with a Protego spell, sending his own Stunner back at him. Without batting an eye, Harry deflected it off at another dummy, one too slow to defend. Before the first could even prepare another spell, Harry was right in front of it. Grabbing the wrist of the hand holding the wand, he smashed the elbow of his wand hand into it, causing it to release its weapon, and followed up with a hammerfist to the jaw. Harry then pulled the faceless body around, and Banished it towards another dummy.

Like Archer told him to, Harry used everything he had. He went for the dangerous weapons first, and barring that, the limbs of the wielder. Sometimes he used spells that were simple and direct, other times he was crafty, attacking through indirect magical methods. But through it all, Harry did not slow down. He went through them moving almost instinctually, disrupting their attacks before they could even begin them, and he barely received any blows.

Meanwhile, Archer was thinking about his host. He could tell that Harry had a talent for fighting like this, and was wondering how he could nurture it further.

Once more switching his wand from front grip to reverse, Harry activated his watch and used it as a club to a dummy's head, before whirling around it and striking behind the knees to send it to the ground. Jumping aside to avoid a spell, he used his index and middle fingers to pull the string, sending a Stunner at the body, keeping hold of his wand with his ring and little fingers. His leap put him far from the remainder, and Harry quickly fired a few more arrows at those who were trying to revive their compatriots.

They dodged out of the way, only to stumble over the Transfigured metal rods Harry banished towards their legs. Harry's speed as he alternated between using his wand and bow were nothing short of remarkable, and while his accuracy under stress wasn't up to his usual level of perfection, the bow felt like a part of him; he shot off Bludgeoners and Stunners interchangeably depending on the target, followed up with an Incarcerous or a Sticking Charm to keep the constructs down and out of battle.

When the Room made them adapt by creating barriers to hide behind, Harry instantly switched tactics and rushed into their midst, throwing them into chaos once more.

All in all, it took him only two minutes to neutralize the entire group of twenty.

_See? That is what you can do if you truly want. _Archer told him.

Harry couldn't help but grin widely.

He continued training until he was soaked in sweat. Thankfully, the Room provided full bathing facilities, and cleaned his clothes while he luxuriated in warm water. It also yielded some interesting texts on wizard dueling that he copied with a Geminio spell to read afterwards. The international one in particular was very informative, much more so than the British version, as it not only described the effects of a certain spell or tactic, but explained why it was so effective in combat. While most duels were one-on-one, Harry was thinking of how he could adapt it to fight groups instead.

The hint that the British Ministry could have been controlling information once again almost went unnoticed, but even then, Harry's mood was hardly affected. It also reminded him that he should look through some of the books he found in the Room of Hidden Things; some of them looked like they would hold really interesting bits of information.

And with Christmas so close, he had a ready-made excuse to use if anyone asked him where he had been. Regarding that issue, Harry had actually managed to do what few students had ever done before: find the place where the house elves kept the presents to be delivered on Christmas morning. It wasn't actually hidden; the room itself was a storeroom off from the kitchens, but it was the elves that ensured that no students could get into it. Harry only got a small glimpse before several tiny hands chivvied him away from the door. The elves were only too happy to tell him about it, though.

_Magic has made these wizards lazy, don't you think? So many things can be found... if you just ask the right questions._

_I have to agree. _Archer replied. _Just be careful that you don't ask the wrong ones._

Harry grunted, trudging back to Gryffindor tower.

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron were the only ones left in their dormitory, and just as Harry was changing to go down to breakfast after his exercise, the door burst open. Still feeling worked up from all the fighting, Harry's reaction was to grab his pillow and chuck it at the intruder.

"Goo- ACK!" Hermione yelped as the missile made contact, and she fumbled the presents in her arms. "Harry!"

"Sorry." Harry apologized, not sounding sorry at all. "I thought you were one of those girls who wanted to peep on me changing."

Hermione blushed deeply. "Does that really happen?" She asked, adding her present for him to the pile at the foot of his bed.

Harry didn't answer the question, but simply wished her a Merry Christmas. The girl huffed, before smiling and pulling the curtains open to let in the sunlight.

"Wake up, Ron." She said loudly, rousing the last person in the room.

"Hermione! You're not supposed to be in here-" Ron shielded his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," Hermione threw him his present. "I've been up nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Harry looked at her sharply. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," replied Hermione, shifting Ron's pet rat so she could sit down on the end of Ron's four-poster bed. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight. Harry, how are preparations on your end?"

The white-haired boy moved over to his trunk, and retrieved a piece of paper from it. "Here," He said, flicking it over to Hermione, who caught it. "Location of the Slytherin dorm, and the password to get in."

"Perfect." She said happily. "Let's go down for breakfast!"

"Now you're talking!" Ron said enthusiastically, throwing back the covers.

Hermione eeped and turned her head away, and Harry groaned.

"We'll go ahead first, Ron. Get changed quickly and catch up to us." Harry told the redhead, grabbing Hermione's arm and drawing her out of the room.

The twins came up to him at the table and thanked him profusely for their Christmas presents, something which, Archer was amused to note, made the teachers who overheard tense up nervously. It also reminded Hermione to do the same; the sparkle of glee in her eyes as she imagined learning all those charms made Harry grin.

The gifts he received were a sight to behold. Hermione had gotten him a luxurious eagle-feather quill, something Harry had to reassure her was an adequate compensation for her gift. Neville's present was a bundle of straight wooden shafts, which were from a magical tree and could be used to make arrows that would go wherever the shooter wanted. Ron gave him a book on his favorite Quidditch team that Harry wasn't really interested in, but thanked the other boy for anyway. The twins passed him a few large-sized tubes, which were their first attempts at making fireworks.

Daphne had gifted him with another book on magic that could be done with gems, showing her keen observational skills. Compared to that, Su's present was simple; an ornate photo frame which held a picture of her and Harry together, taken by Colin before his Petrification. Susan's contained archery arm guards, which he didn't really need, but appreciated nonetheless. Draco sent him a small golden pin in the shape of a shield divided into four, something which was meant to highlight his position as the Student Council President; Harry was mildly amused to see a note asking him to pass it back along with the position. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Harry melted a little near the fire before eating. And just as he had done, so Harry had received a large number of sweets and candies from those who weren't as close, but knew well enough to send gifts to.

Throughout the rest of the day, owls kept coming to find him in the Gryffindor common room with thank you cards from the rest of his friends who chose to spend Christmas at home with their families. Daphne's in particular had much to say about the gift she and her sister received, while the rest bore politely-worded sentences of thanks.

But nothing prepared Harry for the magnificence of the Hogwarts Christmas dinner. A dozen frost-covered Christmas trees stood in the Great Hall, with thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling. The ceiling, which normally provided an image of the sky outside, was dropping conjured snow onto the people below, who remained warm and dry in the midst of it all.

Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, while Hagrid's voice increased in volume with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy was the clueless subject of several sniggers, as people noticed that his prefect badge was bewitched to read 'Pinhead' instead.

It was so easy to forget all about his troubles and just enjoy the atmosphere with his friends.

At least until Hermione dragged him and Ron out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into." Hermione told them matter-of-factly.

Harry pulled out a small vial with a few strands of hair inside. "Some third-year Slytherin who I see in the library quite often. He's quiet and perfect as the type who would look around."

Hermione turned to Ron expectantly.

"What are you looking at me for?" Ron asked, his eyes wide with confusion.

The bushy-haired girl sighed. "I was initially planning for both of you to turn into Crabbe and Goyle, but now..." She paused. "I think it'll work anyway. Better than my idea to turn into Millicent Bulstrode."

Hermione held up two plump chocolate cakes, and explained how they were filled with a simple Sleeping Draught. The plan was simple; get the two thugs to eat the cakes, stow them in a closet somewhere, grab a few of their hairs, and that was it. The problem was, it was TOO simple; there was no contingency plan if there was a failure at any of the steps.

"I'll be waiting with the potion, so I'll leave it to the both of you to get the hairs." After saying that, Hermione walked away.

Ron turned to Harry. "Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?"

"Better than no plan at all." Harry sighed.

But surprisingly, it went off without a hitch. Hermione left the cakes on the banisters outside the hall just as Crabbe and Goyle were leaving, and the two Slytherins grabbed them greedily, only to keel over backwards without the slightest change in expression after a few seconds of chewing. It was harder lugging their bodies to the broom closet afterwards and hiding them there, but they eventually managed it, and returned to Myrtle's toilet posthaste. Hermione opened the door when she heard their voices, and they could hear the bubbling sound of the potion coming from behind her. Harry could also smell the potent prana rising from the cauldron.

Then the first mistake came to light, one so dumb that Harry was kicking himself for not noticing it sooner.

"You _forgot _to take Crabbe's hair?" Hermione screeched at Ron, who recoiled away from her.

Harry sighed and dropped his face into a palm. When Hermione assigned Ron to collect Crabbe and Goyle's hairs for the two of them, he assumed Ron was up to it. This was such a foolish mistake that even he himself had trouble believing it.

_There's no time to waste, Harry. _Archer reminded him.

Nodding, Harry looked at Hermione. "You'll just have to go as Bulstrode. As for Crabbe's absence, say he went to the Hospital Wing for stomach medicine."

Hermione nodded back, already retrieving the necessary bottle from a pocket in her robes. "Good idea, Harry." She held up a small sack. "I snuck these spare robes out of the laundry, for when we became Crabbe and Goyle. Lucky Millicent is around the same size."

She turned, and the two boys followed her gaze to the cauldron. In its completed state, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly despite no longer being heated.

"I'm sure I've done everything right." Hermione mumbled nervously as she pulled out **Moste Potente Potions** to check the recipe again. "It looks like the book says it should... once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

"Now what?" asked Ron quietly.

"Now we fill these," Harry pointed at the three bottles standing on the toilet seat, "Add our hairs, get close to the Slytherin common room, drink, and get inside."

"What Harry said."

Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion out, carefully transferring them into the bottles. Then, with a trembling hand, she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle and into the first one. The moment the hair dropped into the potion, there was a violent reaction; a loud hiss like a boiling kettle came from the bottle, and the potion frothed madly, before it shifted into a sick sort of yellow.

_That's... weird. _Harry thought as he tried to recall some of his Potions notes. _The color change from dark brown to yellow is too sudden... something's not right._

"Harry, add yours." reminded Hermione, jarring him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, yeah."

He added the third-year's hairs and Ron added Goyle's. Both potions had the same hissing and frothing reactions, but the colors they turned into were different; Harry's took on a tinge of blue to replace the brown, while Ron's lightened up so that the brown color was more distinct.

Hermione corked the bottles and distributed them out. "There's a toilet nearby the Slytherin common room, we'll go there to change." She instructed, reading off the paper Harry had passed her this morning.

They decided to leave the cauldron where it was, and clear it up afterwards. Harry made sure to Vanish the remnants of the Polyjuice Potion, just in case.

With the end of the dinner, there were few students left roaming the corridors, and the three of them made it to their destination without running across any other student, apart from one close shave where a Ravenclaw Prefect suddenly slipped out of a room, looking slightly ruffled.

_Somebody's been busy. _Archer commented as the girl went back the way the second-years came, not noticing them hiding in a small alcove.

_Busy with what? _

_Never mind that. Focus on what you're doing first. _

Harry frowned, but didn't ask any further. However, he peeked into the room the girl came out of, and saw Percy Weasley looking at his watch, clearly waiting for something. Before he could do anything else, though, Hermione pulled him away.

They went into the male side of the toilet since they were going to be changing into that gender, and after ensuring that all of them had the appropriate robes to change into, went into separate stalls to drink the potion.

"Ready?" Harry asked, his potion bottle unopened in his hand.

"Ready." Hermione and Ron's voices answered him.

"One - two - three..."

If Harry hadn't Reinforced his ears, he would have probably missed the odd squeak Hermione made. Ron grunted in pain, but Harry expected that; the Polyjuice Potion transformed the physical form, that meant bones would have to reshape themselves, and he doubted that was a painless experience. Feeling slightly worried, Harry crouched down low to peek under the divider.

_Well... that was unexpected. _Archer commented as Harry stared at the black tail that suddenly dropped down out of nowhere.

"Guys?" Goyle's low rasp came from the stall Ron was in. "You okay?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I think... we should abort this mission."

"Why?" demanded Ron. "We've come this far already!"

_Because Hermione's in trouble, idiot! _Harry bit back the harsh reply. "Fine, but you'll have to go on alone. Hermione needs to go to the Hospital Wing."

There was another squeak from the girl.

"What's wrong with her?"

"It's nothing!" A high-pitched voice replied.

"But-"

"No, really! It's nothing, you guys go on ahead, you're wasting time-"

Harry sighed. "Okay, Ron, listen up. When you leave the toilet, turn left, then right. The entrance is hidden in the center of the corridor. Password's 'Pure-blood', understand? Pure-blood."

"Pure-blood. Got it." There was a sound of the door opening. "You sure you-"

"Just go! Don't get caught, and head back to the tower when you're done!" Harry snapped.

"Right!" The toilet door opened and shut.

_He didn't even notice my voice hadn't changed. _Harry left his stall and knocked on the door to Hermione's. "Alright, Hermione. Come out of there."

"I'm telling you I'm fine!" came the shrill reply. "Go away!"

"Don't lie to me, Hermione. You..." Harry took a sniff; Hermione suddenly had a magical scent, but it was familiar somehow... _Kneazle! _"That wasn't Bulstrode's hair, was it? That was cat hair."

There was silence. Then the lock slid back and Hermione came out, her robes pulled up over her head. Harry could hear her sniffling, on the verge of crying.

He spoke to her gently. "Hermione? Let me see."

She let her robes fall, and Harry couldn't help but flinch at the sight before him.

Her face was covered in black fur, and her eyes had turned yellow. Directing his gaze upwards, Harry saw long, pointed ears sticking through her hair.

"I-it wasn't su-supposed to be u-used for animal transformations!" Hermione sobbed.

"Oh boy." Harry murmured. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey. I'm sure she'll be able to deal with this."

"What if she can't?" demanded Hermione tearfully. "What if I'm stuck like this forever?"

"I'm sure you won't. Come on." He coaxed her. "Pomfrey won't ask too many questions."

It took him a few minutes to persuade her to leave the bathroom, but having his Invisibility Cloak on hand proved to be the clincher, and Hermione was soon in the safe hands of Madam Pomfrey, who told Harry to get back to his dorm.

Ron returned soon after, and glumly told him that he couldn't find any clue about the Heir of Slytherin. Not even Draco knew, and Ron had heard the blonde say so. The only benefit that had come from this undertaking was that Lucius Malfoy somehow knew that the Chamber had been opened fifty years ago, and someone died from it while the culprit was expelled.

It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

School was about to resume tomorrow, but Harry couldn't find it within himself to care at the moment.

A breakthrough. Harry finally had a breakthrough.

And it was all thanks to that one single discovery, one that he was wondering just how he could have missed in the first place. _Guess it's all the distractions..._

_But where will you go with this now? _Archer asked. _To be perfectly honest, what you're planning will-_

Harry waved a hand. _I'm not going to tattoo myself right away, Archer._

It had started with a simple find. During one of his searches in the Room of Hidden Things, Harry had come across a narrow rod with runes carved into its length. The basic knowledge he had told him that it was meant to transform magical energy into flames, and Harry tried it out by channeling prana into the item, producing a large gout of flame that created a fire he struggled to put out. However, when he approached Flitwick with it, the small teacher had told him that these flamesticks were a rare relic that had fallen out of use due to the difficulty in activating them. (Harry pretended he had found it tucked away into a small gap above a painting instead revealing the true location)

So with his understanding that he had found a Mystic Code, Harry used the free time afforded by the Christmas holidays to research more into it, in order to learn how to create one for himself. Then he compared it to the bow the Flamels gave him, and was suddenly hit with a revelation.

Since magecraft functioned on accessing a thaumaturgical system with charged magic circuits, that meant the runes on both Mystic Codes were forming such systems. So in order for Harry to create his own Mystic Code, he needed a familiarity with runes. And if he could inscribe those runes on himself, he might be able to wield magic without the use of a wand.

But it was the expansion from there that led him to his current endeavor. Tracing was a mysterious bit of magecraft that didn't match the information in the books, nor what he had just discovered. After Harry puzzled over it for a few days, he finally came to a conclusion: Archer's existence within him served as the thaumaturgical system for Tracing. Extending that theory to himself, Harry believed it was possible to use himself as a thaumaturgical system.

The question was how he could accomplish that. Archer's shared Element and Origin of 'Sword' played a part, but Harry had no idea what his own were. It took some meditation before he hit upon a solution: his existence as a human. It wasn't an easy task, since Harry had no idea where to even begin with that, but a past memory proved to be the clue he needed.

_Gandr. _A curse meant to inflict damage to the physical health of its target. The detriment of physical health.

Humans could fall ill at any time, given the right conditions; that was the theory Harry built on. Believing in himself, he used his single personal circuit, and focused on manifesting that concept into a single bullet at the end of his index finger. Both he and Archer were greatly surprised when it actually worked.

"Wow." Harry murmured as he looked at the shattered block of wood he had used as a target. "I thought it was only supposed to make a person ill?"

_Apparently your circuit is efficient enough to overload it into a Fin Shot. _Archer said dryly.

"That's good, I guess?" _Maybe-_

Archer immediately interrupted, _No, you are not to make a second circuit._

_Why not? _demanded Harry, not realizing he switched from speaking out loud to thinking.

_For one, you narrowly avoided killing yourself the first time. It would be better if you had someone around just in case something bad happens. Two, your intention of making a second one comes solely from your fascination with the power of the first, and that is not a good thing to follow through with._

_...you're right. _Harry knew that fiction books weren't really the best source to draw moral direction from, but they had their uses. _Thanks for keeping me from making stupid mistakes, Archer._

_You're welcome._

Now that Harry had a new skill, he began to work with it whenever he could, relegating Tracing and Jewel Magecraft to a lower priority. It took him three seconds to charge up for a proper Fin Shot, and he was hoping to cut that time down to be useful in a fight.

Once again, Harry paused to consider his situation. Nearly everything he did was meant to build himself up for battle, while those in his age group were doing things like dating or goofing off. But then again, he was just... different. No one else had Voldemort hanging over their heads. No one else had enemies waiting to stab him the moment he let his guard down. And he was apparently the only one who knew that. Sometimes Harry wished he didn't have to live like this, that he could enjoy life like any normal twelve-year old. Then reality kicked back in and threw out the useless daydreams.

He knew that if he tried to warn anyone, they wouldn't believe him. Dumbledore might, but even so, Dumbledore was just one man against the masses who showed fear at the sound of a name. And with Archer's experience to back that viewpoint up, Harry felt nothing short of trapped. Trapped in the slowly closing jaws of a beast with no chance to do anything about it until doom was nearly impending.

So all he could do right now was to train and get stronger. Strong enough to overcome anything he might encounter.

Not once did Harry or Archer ever consider assassinating his enemies.

_There are other ways they can strike at you, you know. _Archer warned. _It happened to me before. The power of the press and law itself can be very devastating._

_...damn it. _Harry groaned out loud, pausing in his searching. _Are you telling me I have to read through law books now?_

_I'm sure you can postpone it for a few years, _replied Archer cheerfully, _But yes, it would be a good idea for you to do so._

"Sometimes I wonder if it was a good thing summoning you." Harry muttered.

_But you summoned me, and that remains a constant fact. _The spirit reminded him.

Harry sighed and continued to root through the piles of junk.

Unfortunately, when Harry emerged from the Room, he found the school panicking over the latest attack; Justin had been Petrified. The boy had been found near the library near Nearly Headless Nick, who looked black and smoky instead of his usual pearly white, and the four roosters around that area were found dead, their necks broken. While the ghost would eventually recover given time, Justin would remain as he was until the Mandrakes were ready. Armed with the knowledge of the beast being a Basilisk, it was easy enough to tell what had happened; Justin made eye contact with the snake through Nick's transparent body, and was Petrified while the ghost got the full brunt of the killing gaze. However, no clue was left as to the location of the Chamber.

Harry approached Susan to ask her for help in getting her aunt to come and investigate, but strangely, there was no reply from Amelia Bones. It irked Harry greatly; something seemed off about that.

Meanwhile, Hermione's condition forced her to stay in the Hospital Wing for several weeks, which sparked off a few rumors about her apparent 'disappearance' once the rest of the students came back from the Christmas holidays. It took the combined efforts of Harry and Luna to put out an article that set those to rest, by inserting Hermione's account of seeing Justin get carried into the Hospital Wing. But since she was tight-lipped about the cause, many students still made the effort to pass by the Hospital Wing to catch a glimpse of her, enough so that Madam Pomfrey placed curtains around Hermione's bed.

Harry, Ron and Neville went to visit her every evening, occasionally accompanied by Su or Susan, the only girls Hermione felt comfortable about sharing her condition with. When the new term started, the boys brought her each day's homework, while Harry thoughtfully provided the necessary texts from the library.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work." remarked Ron one evening.

"McGonagall can sprout them anytime." Harry commented with a straight face.

"But she can change back, you know that, Harry." Hermione pointed out, though the smile on her lips betrayed her humor at the implied joke. "And don't be silly, Ron. I've got to keep up."

It was impressive how she could change her tone from good-humored to brisk, though Harry was of the opinion that it was due to her mood being greatly improved, due to her no longer having fur on her face and her eyes returning back to their original brown color.

Or it could be this, reasoned Harry, as he reached up and began stroking her cat ears. In spite of herself, Hermione began to purr, something that made the other two boys stare. Harry watched amusedly as her hands began to knead the blanket over her legs while her body writhed sinuously.

"S-stop that!" She cried, trying to push his arm away. "I-it's- auuuu... Harryyyyy!" Hermione squealed.

Ron could only say one thing. "Bloody hell." Next to him, Neville nodded, his jaw hanging open.

When Harry finally stopped, Hermione was left red-faced and panting, trying to glare daggers. But the white-haired boy just smirked at her in an infuriating manner.

"Say, Hermione, can I-" Ron started, but quailed when the girl turned her head towards him.

"No." Hermione then changed the subject. "Any new leads?" She dropped her voice so as not to be overheard by Madam Pomfrey.

Ron shook his head. "Malfoy knew nothing of use. And I was so sure it was him."

Harry resisted the urge to groan. The male redhead still had his unreasonable dislike of all things Slytherin. Grabbing an apple from the fruits basket next to the bed, Harry began cutting it into neat slices with flicks of his wand, and handed them to Hermione on a plate. When he turned to dispose of the skin, Harry spotted something golden folded in the waste bin, and automatically analyzed it. What he found made him smile; it looked like Hermione was finally getting over her worship of the fop known as Lockhart.

Just as they finished off the slices, Madam Pomfrey came over with the evening dose of medicine, and shooed the boys out.

They made their way back to Gryffindor tower, with Neville and Ron asking for Harry's help in doing the homework Snape had dumped on them recently. It was an evident attack on Harry; he had seen the smirk on the man's face when he assigned them five different essays to be completed over two weeks, along with readings for the potions they were to brew as well. Unfortunately, Harry had recently upgraded his Assignment Quills with a reading function; as long as he wrote out the points for the essay, it was an easy task for the quills to transcribe those points onto parchment (Snape rejected paper), freeing Harry of the need to read aloud. They could even work simultaneously, which was how Harry completed all the essays last night in the Room of Hidden Things while he continued his search.

Neville willingly paid out for the new quill, while Ron chose to stick with the older version he had. However, the quills were useless if the users had no idea what information was needed, which was why they were asking Harry for help.

Just as Neville was asking about the number of cockroach eggs to add to a Hair Coloring Potion, they heard the sound of an angry outburst.

"Filch!" Neville whimpered; the caretaker still intimidated him sometimes.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron anxiously. It wasn't that long ago since Justin had been attacked.

Harry shook his head; his ears were already Reinforced, and thus he could hear what Filch was angry about. "Flooded toilet. He's mad about having to mop the mess up."

Sure enough, Filch's words became clearer as he approached their position. "Even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore-"

The voice trailed off as Filch turned down another corridor, and was finally silenced by the sound of a slamming door.

The three boys poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post, which he had taken up once again in the advent of Justin's attack. They saw at a glance what the man had been shouting about; a huge flood of water, bigger than the one on Halloween, covered more than half the corridor, with more seeping out from under the door of Myrtle's toilet. Harry heard it earlier, but now that FIlch was gone, the other two could also hear Myrtle's wailing echoing from her toilet. (1)

"Now what's up with her?" asked Ron.

"Maybe we should go and see?" Neville suggested timidly.

Shrugging, Harry led the way across the water, not even bothering to hold his robes free of it like Neville and Ron did; he could easily dry it with his wand. They ignored the OUT OF ORDER sign as always, and entered.

Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, even louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet, and it was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that left even the ceiling wet in some areas.

"_Lumos_." Harry muttered. _Doesn't smell as bad as I was expecting, but why is that prana smell so strong?_

"Who's there?" Myrtle glugged miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded towards her stall. "Somebody threw something at you, I take it?"

"YES!" Myrtle emerged in a wave of yet more water, which Harry managed to dodge. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me..."

"I don't think they meant it, whoever they were. They probably didn't even know you were there."

It was the wrong thing to say, because Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked. "Let's all throw our things away! NOBODY CARES if they go through Myrtle, because she DOESN'T MATTER!"

Harry winced, and quickly changed the subject. "I don't suppose you saw who did it?"

"No I didn't... I was sitting in the U-bend when it fell through the top of my head." Myrtle glared at the three of them. "It's over there, it got washed out..."

_Really... what sort of abilities do ghosts actually have? They're supposed to be immaterial, but Myrtle can affect the plumbing... _Harry shook his head. _Don't get distracted now._

The boys looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small thin book lay there, as soaked as any book could be after being exposed to copious amounts of water. Frowning, Harry crouched down to peer closely at it, only to have his vision blocked by Ron's outstretched arm.

"I'm not going to touch it, just look at it." Harry said irritably, pushing the arm out of the way.

"It could be dangerous." insisted the redhead.

"If it was dangerous to look at, we'd already know." Harry pointed out, and turned back to the book. "I told you, I'm not going to touch it."

"Good, because there are a lot of dangerous books out there." Ron said in relief. "Some of the books the Ministry confiscated..."

Harry tuned Ron out to examine the book closely, ignoring the water seeping up his robes. The cover was black and shabby. Frowning, he directed the light onto it. There was a date, faded but still legible, on the cover, marking it as fifty years old, and while gone, there was a slight imprint where embossed words had spelled out 'Diary'.

_Why would someone throw away a diary? Unless... _Harry analyzed it.

Then he bolted back hard enough to hit the wall of the bathroom and leave cracks in it, before sliding down to touch the floor. It was an instinctual reaction, Reinforcing his body for a quick escape.

"What the hell?" Ron swore, jumping back and pulling Neville with him. "Are you okay, Harry?"

_What was THAT in there? _Harry's eyes were wide as he stared at the nondescript book still on the floor. _It was alive, but not alive at the same time! That thing shouldn't exist! Archer! What was it?_

_It feels like a soul, but somehow wrong... it reminds me a little of a Dead Apostle. _The spirit replied grimly.

"Harry? Harry! Say something!" Neville was frantic.

Harry turned to look at his blond friend. "I-I'm fine... Just... that thing has a lot of magic. Shocked me quite a bit."

"How can you tell? You didn't even use any spells." Ron demanded.

"Don't know how, but I just can tell." Harry bit his lip, and began searching through his robes. "Where is... aha, here it is."

Producing his silver knife, Harry approached the book again and used the blade to open the cover. When the other two saw that there was no explosion or anything, they came closer as well. What they saw wasn't impressive or anything, just a simple name in smudged ink, "T.M. Riddle".

"Hang on, I know that name..." Ron said from over Harry's shoulder. "The twins mentioned it, said it was on some trophy in the trophy room."

Harry was silent, but his mind was going a hundred miles an hour.

After all the work he put into trying to find Riddle's Box (Now known as Riddle's Book), it up and dropped into his lap. It was... really discouraging, to say the least. Now that he was looking for it, he realized it was the source of the prana smell. The reason he hadn't noticed before was because it had a charm that was meant to make those around the item dismiss it as unimportant and encourage feelings of security, which was now useless now that he knew it was there. When he looked for other spells, he found a compulsion charm, one that made people want to write in the diary. That was probably how it worked, and Harry got Archer to promise to watch out for him in case he was affected.

"Doesn't look dangerous." Ron suddenly picked up the diary, and began flipping through it. "It's empty. Are you sure this has got magic in it?"

"It would explain why someone wanted to flush it away in the first place." Neville pointed out quietly.

"Harry, where's Vauxhall Road?" Ron suddenly asked.

"Huh?"

"Look, here." Ron held out the book, opened to the back cover.

Harry took a look at the store's name and address. "It's in non-magical London. That means this Riddle was a mundane-born." _So this is clear proof that Voldemort wasn't as pureblooded as he presented himself to be? Huh, this might be a stroke of luck._

"Bet Hermione will love this. She'll want to find out what sort of powers it got hidden..." Ron remarked as they left the bathroom with the diary.

The next day, Harry used his free time to visit the trophy room, where he quickly found T.M. Riddle's name on an Award for Special Services to the School, received fifty years ago. However, there was no evidence as to what he received it for, which frankly made it hard for Harry to reconcile it with what he knew of the person Riddle would become. Furthermore, Riddle had also received a Medal for Magical Merit, and was Head Boy during his time in Hogwarts.

When Hermione heard about the diary, she all but demanded to see it. Harry's response was to pet her shrinking cat ears until she asked for it nicely instead. But from the look on her face, he knew that she was thinking the same thing he did when her finger began tapping on the date in the diary.

"Fifty years?" He asked, and she looked around at him sharply before nodding with a small smile.

"What?" Neville looked from one to the other. "What do you mean fifty years?"

"Remember what Ron said? The Chamber was opened fifty years ago." said Hermione.

"And this diary is fifty years old." Harry pointed at the book.

"So?" Ron asked.

"Oh, Ron, wake up," snapped Hermione. "You were the one who told us that the person who opened the Chamber was expelled fifty years ago. We also know T.M. Riddle received his award fifty years ago. What if Riddle got his reward for catching the Heir of Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything..."

Harry barely heard the rest as his suspicions solidified further. He was positive that Riddle hadn't caught the culprit, but _was _the culprit and simply framed someone else for it instead. And didn't anybody else see that there was something wrong with the whole punishment? Someone was killed and the apparent culprit wasn't tried, but just expelled? Harry's dislike for the wizarding world was starting to increase again.

Hermione tried a spell meant to reveal invisible ink, then used a Revealer which she bought from Diagon Alley, but neither had any effect in making the diary give up its secrets. In the end, Harry stored it away in his workshop to take a crack at it later; he didn't want to use Structural Analysis on it again, because the knowledge of the _thing_ stored inside affected his sanity. Even now, he tried to forget the experience.

At the start of February, Hermione was discharged from the Hospital Wing, fur-free, tail-less and no longer bearing whiskers. Harry greeted her with a bit of disappointment, while the other members of the group were considerably warmer after the absence.

"Couldn't you have let her be for once? I could have taken the top position in our studies." Daphne teased Harry as her friends laughed.

"As if that would stop me." Hermione sniffed.

"Shall we have a wager then?" The brunette challenged.

Harry blinked, and looked up from his science text.

"Oh? What do you propose?" The bushy-haired girl raised an eyebrow.

"The loser has to perform a penalty. And that will be to... kiss Harry on the mouth." Daphne said with a sly smirk.

Harry's jaw dropped as Archer suddenly burst into laughter. He was partially thankful that the twins and the other boys weren't around, because this would have opened quite a can of worms.

For her part, Hermione only gaped for a moment before she nodded and asked for the conditions of the wager. Daphne proved her ability as a Slytherin when she demanded that they compete in the subject she was best at: Potions. With Snape naturally siding with her against a Gryffindor, Hermione's chances of winning wasn't as definite as it would have been had it been any other subject.

Archer only laughed harder when Susan and Hannah said they wanted in on it as well. Harry wasn't sure what to think, so he made his excuses and escaped back to Gryffindor tower.

Gilderoy Lockhart was starting to act up again, and claimed that the person who opened the Chamber had stopped because he was afraid Lockhart would catch him. However, instead of pursuing the issue and ending things once and for all, Lockhart actually decided that the school was in need of a good cheering up. Harry commented that it reminded him of an ostrich burying its head in the sand, and his group agreed with him, even Hermione.

However, he couldn't help but get a bad feeling about the statement Lockhart made as he walked away from Professor McGonagall.

"You know, what the school needs is a morale booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing..."

It became clear on February the fourteenth, at breakfast. Harry was feeling a little tired after a late-running Quidditch training session the night before, and was considering going to the kitchens for a cup of coffee when he stepped into the Great Hall. At first, he thought the Weasley twins had purposely did it as a prank.

The walls were covered in large, lurid pink flowers, and in a mockery of the Christmas decorations, pink heart-shaped confetti fell like snow from the pale blue ceiling. Feeling a twitch in his left eye, Harry went over to Gryffindor tower and began to eat, ignoring a giggly Hermione. He easily spotted Lockhart up at the teacher's table, dressed in robes the same color as the flowers decorating the walls. Neville soon joined them, followed by Ron, both of whom looked sickened by the decorations. When the hall was sufficiently filled, Lockhart stood up and waved for silence. Harry noted with interest that the teachers who sat on either side of him had expressions that looked like they were carved from stone; McGonagall had a tic in her cheek, while Snape looked like he wanted to throw up whatever foul thing was in his mouth.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the thirty-one people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!"

The man clapped his hands, and a dozen surly-looking dwarves came trooping into the hall. However, instead of whatever Harry expected them to be wearing, these dwarves were wearing golden wings and carrying harps. The twitch in Harry's eye grew stronger.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart beamed. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Harry stared at the less-than-enthusiastic reactions the two wizards had in response to Lockhart's announcement, and promptly began rooting through his book bag. According to his schedule, he had Charms, History of Magic, and Astronomy today. As he did so, he became aware of the number of girls that were slowly turning to look in his direction, and began working faster.

He was sure that Flitwick would give him a pass for today, and Binns never really paid much attention to his students unless they did something to draw his attention. Sinestra wasn't an issue since her class was late at night.

That settled, Harry wrote out a note for the small wizard, and clipped it to the Charms homework that was due today. He then handed it and the History homework over to Hermione, and hightailed it out of the hall. The first place he went was to the kitchens, where he made arrangements with the house elves to deliver food to his workshop at the times he needed them. After that, he covered himself with his Cloak, and snuck off to his secret spot.

He spent the time examining the diary, and found several things. One was that it was very resistant to damage, regenerating from the small cuts and stains Harry deliberately inflicted on it with daggers and potions that Harry had procured from the Room. The second was that it served as a communications medium between him and the entity that resided within; when Harry found that it absorbed ink into itself and wrote a false introduction, he was mildly shocked to see it write back.

'My name is Tohsaka Rin. Why was a girl trying to destroy you?' Harry wrote. Archer didn't mind him using that name.

The reply came back in the same ink Harry used, but in different words. 'Hello, Toshaka Rin. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?'

Recalling the compulsion charm meant to make the holder write in it, Harry quickly prepared a setup. Using a spell to link one of his quills to a different parchment he was writing on, Harry wrote on the parchment and watched his words get transferred over. He wasn't sure if this would activate whatever trick lay hidden in Riddle's Book, but it was better than writing inside directly.

'Some girl was screaming as she stabbed away at it with a dagger, before teachers came to take her away. Why was that?'

Harry waited patiently to see what lie he would get.

'I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read. Lucky I recorded my memories in some more lasting ways than ink.' was Riddle's reply.

_He's trying to manipulate you. _Archer warned. _By presenting a secret, he's attempting to encourage your curiosity..._

_And make me write more. _Harry nodded, and quickly thought of the next thing to write.

'Am I correct to assume a link to the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts?'

There was a pause before Riddle's reply came back. 'Yes, there is. I was told it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person opening the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned.' As the words appeared, they became untidier, as though Riddle was hurrying to tell all he knew.

Harry felt disgusted; just because of pride, Dippet had taken the easy way out. While it was a lucky thing that the person framed hadn't gotten off with much more than expulsion, it still reflected the bad side of British wizarding society. It took a reminder from Archer to focus back on the matter at hand.

_He has a flair for the dramatic, doesn't he? The way he makes it sound urgent is quite good. _

_Indeed. _Archer agreed. _And he made things vague as well. Be careful how you ask your questions, Harry._

Harry thought for a while before writing. 'What was his name, Tom?'

'I can show you, if you like.' came the reply. 'You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him.'

_As if. _Harry snorted. _Memory transfer is a risky magic, and I'm not about to do something like that just because of what you say. _He wrote back, trying not to smirk, 'Just his name will do. I trust you.'

Archer snorted, knowing that the namesake of Harry's fake identity wasn't the sort to trust so easily.

'It was Rubeus Hagrid.'

Harry was surprised. For once that lie sounded believable, given what he knew of Hagrid. With the legend of the Chamber claiming that it held a beast within, it was easy to believe that the one who loved such dangerous creatures was the one behind the attacks. And with the wizarding world's penchant for jumping to conclusions, it was a foregone conclusion. At least now he knew why Hagrid had been expelled.

Picking up his quill again, Harry wrote back, 'Thank you. I have a few more questions though. Would you mind answering them?'

'Of course. What are they?'

'Who was the girl who died? And what does the letter M in your name stand for?'

There was a long pause before the reply came back.

'I do not recall the girl's name clearly, but I believe it was Myrtle something. As for the second question, my name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Why do you ask?'

'I am a Ravenclaw. Curiosity is natural.' Harry shut the diary before it could reply.

Harry couldn't resist grinning. He had gotten his hands on Riddle's Book and found out several names of great importance. While he still had yet to figure out the location of the Chamber and find the item that was hidden in the Room, Harry felt that he had accomplished quite a bit. Feeling buoyed by his good mood, Harry began pondering Riddle's full name, and took only a few minutes of thinking before he saw through the trick behind it.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE could be rearranged to form I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. The fake name of the most feared Dark Lord of the century was nothing more than an anagram.

The only thing was just how he was going to make use of this knowledge. After considering his options, Harry groaned. It looked like he would have to start pulling more weight on the Student Council. Well, first he would wait for the day to end.

* * *

(1) I always thought the Hospital Wing was above the ground floor, probably due to the 'sneak up here' I mentioned in a past chapter. Now that I double-checked with the wiki, I'm surprised to realize it's actually on the first floor.

So Harry has finally managed to learn Gandr. I was wondering how I could come up with something like this at first since the usual Nasuverse thaumaturgic systems don't exist, but since proposing the idea that wizarding magical cores serve as mini-Roots, it led to me coming up with the idea of imposing the system upon oneself. The basic system relies on the concept of 'human', with alterations to account for Origin and Element, both of which Harry has no idea about at the moment.

Am I making a super-Harry? Maybe, but it WILL be a slow process in any case. Harry not only has to become a good fighter, but he needs to learn how the adults work. That's going to be a tough job for me, because I need to research lots of stuff...

Delays in updating are due to fanfictions and school. SCHOOL SUCKS!


	21. Ninth Curse

"Harry, I would like to know where you have been all day." Professor Dumbledore looked gravely at the boy sitting in the chair across the desk.

Harry looked back expressionlessly. "Hiding from the 'cupids' Professor Lockhart sent out."

"Where?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Here, there, all over the place, actually." Harry shrugged. "I learned that staying in one place is just asking to be found."

It was February the fifteenth, the morning after Valentine's Day. When Harry had left his workshop to return to Gryffindor tower, he found Neville waiting for him with a message from Professor McGonagall to see the Headmaster in the morning. Given the level of rule-breaking going on in Hogwarts, Harry personally felt that he was being called up more for the fact that he managed to elude everyone else for the whole day rather than the fact that he skipped classes.

_Dumbledore strikes me as the type who prefers a high level of control over whatever he can. _Archer murmured.

_My thought exactly. _Harry replied dryly.

He felt the beginning of a mental probe, and quickly shattered it by flashing one circuit on and off quickly. Dumbledore seemed surprised by that, before his face took on a grim tone. As Harry continued to make eye contact, the aged wizard leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk and interlacing his fingers in front of his mouth. The sunlight shining through the windows struck his spectacles, making them look opaque to Harry's point of view. It was intimidating enough that Harry had to force himself a little in order to remain calm.

_...one of the best Gendou impressions I've ever seen. _Archer commented. _A bit spoiled by the beard, though._

_Who? _

_Never mind, I'll tell you later. _

"Am I correct to assume that you have been making use of the Cloak?"

Harry nodded. "It has proved very useful, and never more so than today."

Dumbledore sighed. "I wish you would trust me more, Harry."

_Heck no. I may respect you, but I doubt I will ever trust you. Don't think I have forgotten your unwillingness to answer my questions last year. _Harry thought silently, but out loud he said, "If there's nothing else, sir, I'll be heading for my next class?"

There was another probe, but Harry broke it as easily as he did the first. Grimacing on the inside, Harry resolved to look up the laws on the use of mind magics when he got the chance. For some reason, he was sure it would prove useful.

In the end, Dumbledore dismissed him, but not without giving him a detention with Professor Flitwick to make up for the class he missed yesterday. Harry didn't mind; he intended to use the personal time to find out more about wizarding dueling from the man himself.

Harry headed down to the Great Hall for lunch, and sat at the Hufflepuff table together with those in his year. Out of the other three Houses, the Hufflepuffs were the most welcoming, and they rarely said anything about having outsiders join them at meals, if ever. Harry always found no lack of conversation partners whenever he was there.

Zacharias Smith spoke up moments after he sat down. "Heard you managed to dodge those dwarves all day yesterday."

Harry nodded as he filled his plate. "Apparently they nearly tore up the tower looking for me there."

"So where did you hide out, then?"

"Here, there, all over the place." Harry gave the same story he gave Dumbledore. "When you're trying to hide in a place like this, moving around constantly is the best."

_As long as they can't ask the portraits for help, that is. _Archer said, nodding to himself.

The Hufflepuffs made sounds of comprehension, and turned their attention back to their food. But that reprieve was only temporary, as others leaned closer to ask about other things, the Dueling Club, the Hogwarts Herald, what Student Council event was going to happen next...

Harry had an interesting time discussing the current political situation of the British Wizarding World with Ernie Macmillan. While he already knew it wasn't very favorable with apparent bribery and corruption, there were some parts of it Harry felt he could take advantage of to protect himself. Being an orphan that had a large degree of fame and political clout meant he would have enemies and people who wished to use him for their own ends; once again, he was grateful for Archer's existence, or he might have continued to grow up in ignorance of the threats lurking around him.

_But I'm not going to drop migrating as an option. _Harry mused as he finished off the last of his lunch.

Archer was listening, like he always did. _Just be sure to cover all your bases._

That evening, Harry turned up at Flitwick's office on the seventh floor for his detention. From what he heard, Sprout made students help her out in the greenhouses, McGonagall normally handed detentions off to Filch, and Snape normally made people clean out contaminated cauldrons, but he had no idea of what Flitwick did, plus it was his first time having detention with the wizard. But he wasn't really thinking about that at the moment, because he was holding a conversation with Archer in his mind.

_So you think it's risky for me to hold onto the diary? _Harry asked Archer.

The spirit nodded. _There's a risk that it might possess you, remember. I know you write in it indirectly, but we have no idea if that is a completely safe solution._

_I know. Still, there's quite a lot to be gained from the diary at the moment, _The boy replied, _Such as the location of the Chamber itself, and maybe how he used to control it. Remember the time I talked to that snake? It had its own free will. I bet that if not for whatever magic that's keeping it in control, the Basilisk would probably be the same._

Archer didn't reply, but Harry knew the spirit well enough to recognize agreement.

_But that's not the only thing, _Harry went on, _Now that I know the prana smell that thing has been putting off represents a soul fragment, that means there's another such soul fragment-containing item in the Room. I don't know whether the similar smell means that they're both from Voldemort, but if it is, what if they aren't the only ones?_

Archer's mood turned grim. _Harry, are you familiar with the beings known as liches?_

Harry frowned as he tried to recall some of the stuff from the fantasy books he had read. _They're a type of undead, aren't they? However, they're different from zombies and skeletons because... because... _

The door Harry was waiting next to suddenly creaked open, making him jump in surprise. In his mind, Archer muttered to him to postpone their current discussion till later. As Harry calmed down, Professor Flitwick poked his head out.

"Mr Potter, I was wondering what was taking you." The small wizard squeaked.

Harry quickly thought up an excuse. "Sorry, Professor. I thought you were busy with someone, seeing your door was closed."

"Well, that's quite alright. Come on in, then!" Flitwick said, suddenly cheerier than he was a moment ago.

Harry wasn't sure what to expect of Flitwick's office, but he wasn't too surprised; it was natural for the Head of Ravenclaw to have many books in his office. He noticed a shelf on the wall holding several trophies, all of which, Harry found on sharpening his eyesight, were awarded to Flitwick for his victories on the professional dueling circuit.

"Noticed my trophies, have you?" chirped Flitwick. "I guessed you would. You have an aptitude for dueling, I noticed." The wizard changed the hard wooden chair facing the normal-sized desk into a plushy armchair with a flick of his wand, and went to sit in his elevated seat, somehow managing to be on eye level with Harry. "Go on, have a seat, Mr Potter."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry sat down and waited for Flitwick to continue.

"I don't blame you for your actions yesterday, Mr Potter. Those dwarves were a nightmare, I tell you! Barging into classrooms wanting to give their singing Valentines... ooh, I have half a mind to show that Lockhart what I think of..." Flitwick suddenly caught Harry's stare and coughed. "Er-hem, excuse that outburst."

Harry just shook his head, his lips quirking slightly.

"Well, anyway..." Flitwick continued, pink-cheeked, "I wouldn't have given you a detention, but we teachers have appearances to maintain. Shall we just talk for the duration of this detention then?"

"Sure." He tried not to sound too eager.

Flitwick's expression became pleased, and he tapped his wand on the desk, causing a plate of brownies and two cups of milk to appear. Harry recalled McGonagall's lessons, particularly the law that stated food could not be made from nothing, but the smell of house elf magic clued him in to the trick behind the deed. Somehow, Harry thought about how mundane sleight of hand could be applied to actual magic.

"Ask away then, Mr Potter! Any interesting theories on Charms, perhaps?"

Harry grinned. "Well, sir, maybe you could tell me about..."

The two of them had a long discussion about wizarding dueling, one that was very informative to Harry. He brought up tricks and tactics he read about, and Flitwick eagerly provided instances where he encountered or utilized those, displaying his expertise despite not having participating in a duel for the past several years. It was an enlightening experience for Harry, but he could tell that the man's style was not for him. In its own way, it was _limited_.

Flitwick was waving his wand in several complicated motions. "Spell chains can be nasty and vicious, but they have a weakness. Any dueler worth his wand can recognize the most basic of spell chains, and the more accomplished ones can actually predict the next spell from the movements of their opponent's wand. Thus, they can be countered in the right situation." He explained.

"I normally thought spell chains were meant to deliver a number of spells too fast for an opponent to counter, breaking down his shield?" asked Harry.

"Yes, but everyone has their own specific rhythm. When one tries to cast as fast as he possibly can, he will inevitably enter into a rhythm of his own. There was this duel I witnessed once, between a witch and a wizard. The wizard was casting so quickly it almost looked like a continuous beam of multicolored light, but the witch wasn't the least bit pressured." Flitwick had a faraway gaze as he talked. "Her wand moved just as fast as his did, blocking and deflecting so naturally... then it happened. No one expected it, between the space of one wave and another, she jabbed her wand like a striking cobra, and the wizard lost."

_He's quite the good storyteller. _Harry decided. "So when does one use spell chains?"

Flitwick blinked and focused back on Harry. "Ah... that's a tricky question, truth be told. Many people have said different things, but for me personally, I use them as a sort of finisher."

"Professor... have you ever fought in an actual wizarding fight, no rules?"

The friendly atmosphere evaporated slightly at the mention of that topic. "A few times, and they were in defense of this school. It is... different from the tournaments."

"No restriction on spells, larger field of movement?" Harry guessed.

He received a nod in response. "It is VERY different, I can tell you," said Flitwick, stressing the word, "Facing someone who actively wishes you harm adds an entirely new dimension. That's one of the reasons why those wishing to become Aurors go through an intense training regime."

Inside Harry's mind, Archer could sense his host's thoughts of facing Quirrellmort, and the negative emotions associated with that memory. _Next time, Harry, _He told the boy, _You'll be ready for him. _

"Enough of that dreary topic. Are you hoping to become a professional dueler in the future, Mr Potter?" inquired Flitwick.

Harry thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I can't see myself doing that."

Flitwick seemed surprised. "Most boys your age would jump at the chance to become a professional dueler, or a professional Quidditch player."

"Most boys do not live through a Killing Curse, Professor." Harry deadpanned.

The small wizard chuckled. "Touché. But you still wish to learn, don't you? I can tell."

Harry nodded. "It's a useful skill to have, in my opinion."

Flitwick started to speak, then noticed the clock. "Oh my! Time really has flown! You'd best get back to your dorm quick, Mr Potter, if you don't want to be caught outside by Argus Filch."

Harry nodded and left quickly. Flitwick promised to direct him to books that would help him develop the skill set he wanted.

Minutes later, his body was lying in bed while his awareness was inside Archer's world of blades. But he wasn't sparring against Archer. Not yet.

"I give up, what's so special about liches?" Harry asked Archer as he performed warm up stretches.

"They are effectively immortal as long as they satisfy a certain condition."

Harry was quick to see what Archer was hinting at. "You mean, Voldemort's like a lich? And that's how he could stay alive after supposedly dying back in 1981? What's that condition then?"

"Liches remain 'alive' as long as their phylactery, which they use to hold their soul, remains safe and protected." Archer explained.

Harry considered what he was hearing. "So... Voldemort did the same?"

Archer shook his head. "Not exactly. What was in that diary wasn't a complete soul, as you already know. While I'm not familiar with the magic of your world, my guess is that these soul fragments accomplish the same task as the phylactery I mentioned."

"I think I get it..." Harry said slowly, "The magical theory of sympathy... that means with these soul fragments... _anchoring_ the main piece to this world, Voldemort can't pass on to death. Is this how he did it, then?"

The white-haired man nodded. "Most likely. Once again, the nature of magic in this world makes it hard to confirm that theory, but it is the only thing we've got right now."

Harry thought about the relation between legend and the truth of magic; somehow his instincts told him that they were on the right track, but he wasn't willing to pin all his hopes without some concrete proof. That was the problem with magic; just about anything seemed possible. If one wasn't careful, he could miss the important things just by the dint of not thinking about it.

He shook his head. Sometimes, magic was more troublesome than it was worth. In times like this, he preferred magecraft instead, despite both being somewhat similar. Mentally, he added 'Research into magic regarding souls' to his list of things to do.

The sound of metal coming out of dirt made him look up, barely in time to catch the sword Archer tossed towards him.

As Harry scrambled to his feet, Archer Traced his own twin blades. "Let's check your progress."

Tightening his jaw, Harry thrust his thoughts about the earlier issue away and prepared to fight.

* * *

As February turned to March, Harry went through his list of things to do once more. Now that he had Riddle's Book effectively neutralized, he didn't have to worry about any future attacks. However, he was the only one who knew that, and unless he gave up the diary and the secrets it held, no one else would know; the rest of the castle would have no choice but to endure the roosters' crowing.

Speaking of the diary, it kept trying to ensnare him with whatever unorthodox piece of compulsion magic that was on it, and he didn't like having to keep flashing a circuit because of the memory invoked. Twice already Harry had caught himself just short of reaching for the diary to write in it while he was distracted by something else, and after the last time, he purposely stored it in a small case he had picked up from the Room of Hidden Things, and added a bounded field for good measure. And that was enough to curb the compulsion.

There were still items left on his list of things to do, namely locating the Chamber of Secrets. The remainder of the list could be postponed, but Harry was considering looking into Black's case again. For now, he had a few people to question.

"Hagrid, can I ask you something?" Harry was working on Sirius Black's bike again.

He wasn't alone this time. Harry had purposely arranged for Luna to come along, and had Su and Tracey tag along as well. While Hagrid normally clammed up when anybody mentioned his expulsion, Harry had discovered a new angle to work from.

"Sure, what d'yeh wanna know?" Hagrid chuckled loudly as he nudged a tin of homemade cookies over to the girls.

"Are you familiar with the name Tom Riddle?"

Harry wasn't looking directly at Hagrid, but he certainly could feel the change in atmosphere; Hagrid shifted from friendly to wary in an instant, and the girls noticed it as well.

"How, how d'yeh know that name?"

_Underlying tone of anger... directed at someone who isn't here, most likely Riddle. _"I saw it on one of the trophies. Wondered if you knew the guy."

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Hagrid replied gruffly.

"Who's this Riddle?" Tracey asked curiously.

"He was a Slytherin who was Head Boy back in the forties, got a Special Award for Services to the School." Harry explained as he continued to sketch in his notebook. "As far as I can tell, that's the same period the Chamber of Secrets was said to be opened before."

Su gasped. "Does that mean that-!"

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see the Chinese girl look at Hagrid with a bit of fear.

"But Hagrid didn't open it, did he?" Luna suddenly said. "Hagrid can't be the Heir of Slytherin."

"I agree. Hagrid, you're not... Slytherin enough." Tracey announced.

"T-thanks, I guess?"

"It was probably the work of Wrackspurts." Luna concluded in her dreamy manner. "They make people go all fuzzy."

"And miss the hidden truth for the covering lies." Harry elaborated for the rest.

The time he spent with Luna had given him a bit of insight into the girl's character. While Harry had yet to find any concrete information about the creatures the blonde spoke of, he had come to realize that they were actually hints and clues about whatever issue that was being discussed at that moment. Breaking the code was always interesting.

"That means... you were framed?" Su asked Hagrid.

"Ye-yeh don' think I did it?" The large-sized man asked, a sob in his voice.

"Of course not... I think." Tracey added at the end. "I mean, you do tend to mix around with... big creatures." She put delicately. "One of them could have ran, and then..."

"Never!" Hagrid bellowed, making all of them jump. "Aragog would never kill no one! He wouldn'!"

"Aragog?" Harry, Su, and Tracey all asked.

"I would like to meet Aragog." Luna smiled, making the other three students look at her in disbelief.

_Time to step in. _"Wait, wait, wait... firstly, what sort of creature is Aragog?" Harry interrupted the others to ask.

Hagrid hemmed and hawed, but eventually muttered something that Harry picked up over the crackling of the flames in the fireplace only by the dint of his Reinforcement.

"An _Acromantula_?" He repeated in disbelief.

Su and Luna gasped, clearly recognizing the name of a magical and highly dangerous arachnid.

Tracey was the only one who didn't know anything about it. "What's an Acromatula?" She asked.

Harry graciously provided the answer with what information he could recall through his shock. "Giant spider, usually around Hagrid's size. With a pair of sharp pincers for hands. Carnivorous."

Tracey shivered, and huddled closer to Su. "I'm sorry I asked."

"It wasn' Aragog!" Hagrid insisted. "But no one would believe me, so I got expelled."

"Those Wrackspurts are quite the problem." Luna remarked.

Harry ignored the ditzy girl. "Well, one thing's for sure. Hagrid didn't do it, but he got framed for it. A Basilisk is totally different from an Acromantula anyway."

"Wait," Su said suddenly, "Then what about Tom Riddle? Unless he was the one who..."

"Framed Hagrid." finished Tracey.

"They couldn' prove it." Hagrid said gruffly. "Tom was a prefect, so they believed him. Not me. Only Dumbledore didn'... great man, Dumbledore."

Tracey met Harry's eyes. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"If you mean Tom was the Heir of Slytherin, then yes." Harry said casually. _So now it's just an issue of getting people to follow the right track._

Su frowned. "But I've never heard of a pureblood family named Riddle."

"He could be a halfblood with the surname of his Muggle parent." Luna volunteered. "After all, Professor Snape is the same."

"What? Professor Snape isn't a pureblood?" Tracey seemed shocked at the bit of information, and she wasn't the only one.

_Funny, isn't it? The Head of the House of Pureblooded Bigots isn't a pureblood... _Harry's expression darkened momentarily. _Acts like one though..._

Archer picked that moment to interrupt. _Don't get sidetracked. I know you don't like the man, but the issue of his ancestry isn't a matter now._

It was evident that Snape did a very good job of hiding his own family history; the attitude he projected drew insults and derisive comments more than questions, and those who were likely in the know supported him, as proven by the fact that he was Draco's godfather. Harry was certain that Lucius Malfoy knew, but since he didn't make an issue of it, Draco didn't either.

"We're getting off-topic here." Luna pointed out in one of her sudden moments of lucidity. "I think Riddle was the Heir of Slytherin too."

"But that means he's got to be over sixty years old by now! We'd definitely see an old man lurking around, right?" Tracey pointed out.

Su and Harry exchanged looks, before the Chinese girl opened her mouth. "Unless there's another Heir?"

_Looks like we were thinking of different things. _"Or Tom left something behind to help others open the Chamber."

"That would make for a good article, I think." The younger Ravenclaw suggested. "An investigation into the identity of the Heir. Do you mind giving an interview, Hagrid?"

"We-well, if yer want..." Hagrid sounded uncertain.

Tracey cocked an eyebrow in Harry's direction, only to have the white-haired boy shake his head resignedly and turn his attention back to the motorbike. Su, being Luna's senior, assisted the younger girl in asking questions for the interview.

_This will be a start... As for this motorbike, I think I'm going to need to ask the Runes Professor for some help... _Harry finished recording down another line and closed his notebook. _Funny that no one made any mention of a halfblood being the heir of Slytherin the blood purist._

As they were returning to their respective common rooms, Luna suddenly pulled Harry away. Recognizing her desire to talk to him, he told Su to go on ahead, and found a alcove where they could talk in relative privacy. Harry noticed that she seemed uncharacteristically alert, and realized that she was looking out for people listening in. It left him with the feeling that she wouldn't mention Archer's existence out loud.

He started it off. "What do you want to ask?"

"Have you found the Box yet?"

_She's good. _Archer agreed with Harry's assessment.

"Yeah." Harry admitted. "It's actually a book."

There was a brief pause as Luna's eyes unfocused. "Oh. So it's the diary Ginny's been writing in all this time."

Harry's jaw dropped open. "How, how did you even know that?" _Ginny Weasley... I was trying to ignore her because of how she was acting, and ended up omitting her from my suspicions. Damn it._

"She has been acting awfully strangely the whole time since she's been here, always reading something from that diary of hers even though she should be the only one writing in it. Then recently, she stopped bringing that book out, and started acting how she used to."

Harry ran his hand through his hair with a bit of frustration. "You know, it would have been so much better if you had just said something to the teachers about that..."

Luna just smiled humorlessly. "You know why it won't work."

He nodded. "Yeah. But the attacks should be over now. We just have to..."

The sound of a rooster's clucking reached them, making Harry grimace slightly. The majority of the school had gotten used to the presence of those birds, but that didn't mean the noise didn't bother them.

"...find a way to clear everyone's fears." He finished.

He felt Archer's approval of his intention.

"That sounds like a nice thing to do. I'll help." Luna cheerfully offered. "But what about the Chamber itself? Are you still intending to find it?"

Harry's jaw set grimly. He pulled out his wand and turned around. With several sharp motions, he wrote Riddle's full name out in glowing green letters, which he then rearranged with a wave of his wand to reveal the secret hidden in those letters. A gasp alerted him to Luna's shock at the discovery, and he erased the letters with another wave before tucking his wand away.

"So you see why. Besides," Harry grinned cheekily. "Who knows what other secrets might be hidden in there?"

Luna matched his expression. "It's the Chamber of _Secrets_, after all. A Basilisk is only one secret."

"Exactly."

"Speaking of which, I'm surprised you don't feel like asking any further about that hero." Harry gestured towards his head discreetly.

"I won't mind if you're offering." Luna replied, then her gaze flickered slightly. "But I see you won't be."

"Thanks, Luna." Harry managed to put some note of gratefulness in his tone. "So, until we search for the secrets?"

"Until we search for the secrets." confirmed Luna.

Smirking once again, they went their separate ways, knowing that they would meet up again soon.

That chance soon arrived, as Harry roped the blonde in to visit Myrtle in her toilet during one weekend. Seeing Luna simply prance straight through without any fear was enough to erase his usual reservations of entering the place.

"Oh, it's you again." Myrtle greeted them morosely. "Who's she?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Luna spoke first. "Luna Lovegood. I'm a reporter. Can we ask you a few questions?"

"What do you want to know? How I haunted Olive Hornby?" The issue seemed to please the ghost for some reason.

"Do you know anything about a Slytherin Prefect named Tom Riddle?"

"Tom Riddle?" Myrtle repeated, her face screwed up in concentration. "He sounds familiar..."

They waited, but after several minutes of silence, Harry shook his head and signaled Luna to go on to the next question.

"If you can't remember, then it's okay. Do you mind if we asked you how you died then?"

That made Myrtle perk up. "Ooooh, I remember that veeeery well!" She spoke as though recounting it was the highlight of her un-life. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall."

_Stands to reason, I suppose. Does that mean the other ghosts died here too? Maybe I should ask them... if they react like she does, maybe they might tell me other things too. _Harry thought.

Myrtle continued to talk. "I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in."

"Do you know who?" Luna paused in her note-taking to ask.

Myrtle shook her head. "No, I was in the stall. But I heard him say something funny. It-"

"Excuse me for interrupting, but did you say 'him'?"

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. He had a hunch that the male in Myrtle's account was Tom Riddle himself, but continued to listen silently. _Although it makes one wonder why nobody thought it might be a Heiress instead of a Heir._

"Yes, it was a _boy_ that was speaking. I'm quite sure about it. Even if he was speaking in some strange language."

Luna paused again. "Strange language? Can you describe how it sounded like?"

"Umm... I'm not too sure, but I think there was a lot of hissing."

_Parseltongue, I assume... _Harry exchanged glances with Luna, who nodded in acknowledgement.

"So what happened next?" She went on to ask.

"I unlocked the door to go tell him to use his own toilet, and then-" Myrtle paused for dramatic effect, swelling up with tension. "I _died_."

_Just a bit more, and I think the pieces will fall into place._

"How?" asked Luna.

"No idea." The ghost now spoke in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away..." She gave the pair a dreamy look, then became serious in a manner reminiscent of Luna. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see."

_Well, that confirms it. It's a Basilisk for sure. _Even Luna seemed pleased by this discovery. _Guess we know where to bring the roosters._

Harry looked around the toilet as Myrtle described with relish how she made her former tormentor suffer. According to her, she died the moment she stepped out of her stall, which was only a moment after she first heard the Heir speaking. The position of the Basilisk was limited to the area in front of the stall then, which happened to include a sink. Frowning to himself, Harry walked over to examine it.

"Structural Analysis." He breathed as he made the motions of going over each part closely. It was such a useful bit of magecraft sometimes.

He found several things instantly. The sink itself had protections laid over it, in a woven bounded field of a make Harry wasn't familiar with, defending the sink from almost any form of damage; the mirror and the pipes might have appeared old, but his analysis told him that they hadn't changed in several centuries, even with Myrtle's occasional water parties. However, he could tell what they were meant to do, since the overall structure was similar to some of the previous wards he encountered. The difference just made it harder to break down. But the prize was the carved snake on one of the taps, the only visual clue to the fact that the pipes extending beneath the sink were there to disguise the true form.

Harry tried the tap, and found it didn't work. It was to be expected; there was no water feeding to it in the first place.

"That tap's never worked." Myrtle said brightly, noticing Harry's actions.

Luna came over to look as well. "Did you find something?"

"Not much, only what looks like the possible entrance to the Chamber of Secrets." Harry said dismissively.

"Oh." However, Luna didn't react the way he wanted, simply nodding instead.

"Suspicious, don't you agree? All the magic in this castle, and they can't fix a single tap."

"Unless a Shuckling Serpilant was responsible." Luna suggested, making Myrtle look at her oddly.

Harry inclined his head. "Perhaps." He had seen her eyes dart to the snake carving. "Well, I think we're done here. Thank you for your time, Miss Myrtle."

"Oh no, it was nothing. Do come by again, would you?" She gushed.

_Another admirer, Harry? _Archer teased.

Harry just stalked out of the toilet trying not to let his reaction to the implied proposition show, followed by a nonchalant Luna.

They adjourned to the Herald's office, which was located in a large meeting hall on the third floor. The place was usually quiet, except when there was a new issue set to be released, in which case the staff would be rushing about doing last-minute changes or the printing press would be working full time, forcing those in the room to put up the silencing ward. Today was one of those quiet days, and the only person present was Dean Thomas, who was writing an article promoting football.

"Hey Harry, hey Luna." The boy, looking up at the sound of the door opening, greeted them.

"Dean." Harry nodded back, while Luna went over to her desk to begin writing a draft.

"Got another Student Council event?" Dean asked curiously.

"Actually, no. But I should come up with one soon, shouldn't I?" Harry admitted.

"You accepting ideas? Because I thought of one."

"What is it?"

"A flea market. You know what it is?"

"Yeah." Harry considered the idea. "Yeah, I could use that. Thanks, Dean."

Dean waved him off. "No problem, man. You've been doing all of us a favor ever since you came, you know. It's the least I could do." He changed the subject. "What _are_ you here for, anyway?"

A grin appeared on Harry's face. "Another article on the Chamber of Secrets."

"Really? What did you find out now?" Dean sounded quite interested.

"The Heir of Slytherin was very good at manipulating Wrackspurts to hide his deeds."

Dean shot her a confused glance out of the corner of his eyes. "Uh huh..."

"Remember the one that said it was possible that the beast was a Basilisk?" Seeing the nod, Harry continued, "We've got an eyewitness account proving it."

Dean's jaw dropped. "You're kidding. Wait, I thought looking a Basilisk in the eyes means you die?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not kidding. And yes, they do kill that way."

"Then how-?"

Harry smirked. "Think about it." Leaving Dean with that message, he went over to check on Luna.

As he expected, she had a basic outline prepared already, but it made no mention of any clues to the Chamber's location; by being vague by saying Myrtle died when she came out of the toilet instead of the toilet _stall_, it hinted that she had been unlucky to catch the Heir as he was passing by with his Basilisk. The article also explained that Hagrid had been wrongfully accused of the crime by pointing out several facts about the person in question, and revealed that the beast he was accused of controlling was an Acromantula and not a Basilisk. The end of that article pointed out that the previous Headmaster Armando Dippet had acted foolishly, and that Tom Riddle should have his award taken away.

"Isn't that a bit too direct?" asked Harry, looking at Luna.

She shrugged. "It isn't as though either can do a thing."

"I give up. C'mon Harry, tell me how, will you?" Dean announced, coming over with his completed article in hand.

_I suppose the mundane-borns are restricted by common sense to match the wizards who already lack common sense. _"Dean, what's the opposite of living?" Harry asked pointedly.

_I would have to agree with you on that,_ saidArcher.

"Dead, of course." The dark-skinned boy stopped as realization washed over his face. "Ohhh... I get it! So which ghost did you talk to?"

"A nice girl who haunts the toilet on the second floor." Luna answered, smiling in her usual dreamy manner.

Dean frowned. "A nice girl, huh? Does she have a name? Wait, she haunts a _toilet_?"

Harry and Luna both nodded, which made Dean shake his head frantically.

"Okay, I don't want to know. Here's my article, check it for me, thanks, bye!" Dean gabbled, dropping his paper (Since they were cheaper than parchment, it was decided to use them for the basic drafts) onto Luna's desk and escaping from the room.

"What's with him?" Harry wondered, but nobody could provide an answer.

Once he saw Luna would be fine on her own, Harry went to call for a meeting with the rest of the Council to propose Dean Thomas's idea to them.

"A flea market?" Draco exclaimed in shock. "Are you seriously considering that?"

"What, does it offend your _noble_ sense of upbringing?" Hannah snapped back, getting a glare in response.

"Enough!" Harry growled. "Draco, don't forget that we're all Hogwarts students, and Student Council members as well. We're supposed to act for the benefit of the students, to help them come together outside of their Houses."

"The Houses are there for a reason-"

"Only when each House was learning from a single teacher." Su interrupted. "It's in **Hogwarts: A History**."

"Thank you, Su." Harry nodded to her. "Think about it carefully, Draco, the benefits of having one is far more than it looks."

Eventually after some further discussion, they put it to a quick vote, and the issue passed with unanimous agreement. With things decided, they began to plan the organization of the event. Harry had a private talk with Draco afterwards, pointing out that Slytherin needed to present the proper image, and that the flea market was a good way of getting the measure of those around them. The talk went a long way in convincing Draco to go along with the event, a fact that encouraged Harry about the blond male's prospects.

The premise was quite simple. The students would be instructed to bring the things they wanted to sell on the day itself, along with items from their home if they so wished, and each year in the four Houses would be in charge of a single store. It would be recommended for them to arrange among themselves who would watch over the stall while the others went around seeing what the other stalls had to offer. The items would have to be inspected by the teachers for anything dangerous first, just to be safe. Harry put forward the idea of having a tip jar for those who approved of the event to show their support, which the others liked quite a bit.

Harry's role was to get permission from the staff to hold the event in the Great Hall, and thus it saw him following Professor McGonagall to the Headmaster's office on a calm afternoon. As he stood on the staircase that was moving up like an escalator, Harry was busy thinking.

_Score another point for 'Dumbledore is senile'. What sort of password is that anyway, using the names of common sweets... _

They stepped off at the top, in front of a heavily-polished oak door with a griffin-shaped brass knocker. McGonagall knocked on it, and it opened silently. However, the office was empty, so she instructed Harry to stay there and wait until Dumbledore arrived.

Needless to say, Harry did NOT wait like an obedient child. In the few times he had been here, Harry had to admit that Dumbledore's office was the most interesting of all the teachers'. Given the chance, it was natural to want to poke around a little.

The first thing he noticed was that while all the paintings appeared to be sleeping, not all of them truly were. Harry pointed at his own eyes, then at one particularly inept faker, making the old man twitch uncomfortably. Warning delivered, Harry turned his attention to the rest of the office.

Dumbledore's phoenix eyed him blearily, then gave a short welcoming trill before putting its head under its wing, appearing to go to sleep. Ignoring it, he went over to the shelf where the Sorting Hat was when he failed to find any books to scan. Without any hesitation, he took it off the shelf and put it on. Archer cursed and quickly hid his presence like he had during the Sorting.

Harry stood there, staring into the blackness of the overly large hat. _Godric Gryffindor must have a really big head._

"Actually," The small voice he vaguely recalled from last year spoke in his ear, "I was designed this way, seeing how traumatizing it is for some children to see their peers staring at them while they are being Sorted.

_Oh._

"So, what did you come for, Harry Potter?"

_Can I consult you on certain types of magic?_ asked Harry.

The Hat seemed pleased by that question. "Oho, I knew placing you in Gryffindor wouldn't do anything to curb your Ravenclaw and Slytherin qualities." When Harry didn't say anything in response, it continued, "But I digress. Of course I would be willing to help. What is your question?"

_What sort of magic creates a phylactery?_

"...you're asking about one of the Darkest acts of magic, Harry Potter." The Hat replied somberly.

_I figured, _Harry thought back with some sarcasm, _The one who calls himself Voldemort created a few of them._

"WHAT?" It exclaimed, making Harry wince. "One is bad enough, but to go further than that?"

_Don't ask me. _Harry wanted to rub his ears, but was unable with the Hat in the way. _I managed to get one of them, and I think there's another one in-_

"The Room of Requirement. I'm surprised you found Rowena's magnificent creation, given how well it's hidden. Most never find it more than once." The Hat paused, then went on, "To answer your first question, these phylacteries have a name, they are called Horcruxes. However, you will not find any explicit information on them even in the Restricted Section."

_So only certain private libraries... like Dumbledore's?_

"I cannot say, unfortunately. However, I wish you luck, Harry Potter. You would have gone far in any House."

"Ahem." Hearing the sound of someone clearing his throat, Harry pulled the Hat off and turned around.

Dumbledore stood there, a slight smile on his face as he looked down at Harry. With a tilt of his head, he indicated his desk and the chairs, and Harry nodded. Putting the Hat back on its shelf, Harry went over to sit down.

"I hope we can get on better than we did in our previous meeting, Harry."

_I'll be civil if you are. _Harry just nodded.

"So what is this event you wish to propose?"

Trying not to smirk, Harry handed over the parchment bearing the details. While he never let himself be affected by the compulsion charms trying to draw him away from using normal paper, Harry knew when to use which one to avoid setting off unwanted alarms.

It was easy to get approval, and Dumbledore agreed to inform the other teachers of their roles in making sure that nothing dangerous would be put on sale. With permission obtained, the rest of the Council could go on with the rest of the plan. Draco would be in charge of maintaining order, which he chose to do by patrolling around with Crabbe and Goyle. Hannah worked with McGonagall on reserving the Great Hall and ensuring that each stall had the appropriate amount of space, collaborating with Su who was listing down every item that was to be sold, which was the hardest job of them all and thus the one Harry helped out with.

The Weasley twins suggested the idea of adding a small cafe, and with Harry's agreement, they managed to make arrangements with Madam Rosmerta from the Three Broomsticks down in Hogsmeade to deliver some of her drinks to be sold on that day. Given the tastiness of Butterbeer and the way the third-years and above praised the beverage, many of the younger students were eager to try it.

The Herald delivered the announcement of the event together with Luna's article on the Heir, renewing the discussion over the issue as students wrote home to their parents to inform them of what Luna and Harry uncovered, at the same time asking for items to be sold at the flea market. It resulted in a swarm of owls bearing heavy packages coincidentally coming in with Dumbledore announcing that Hagrid had been wrongfully accused and the revoking of Tom Riddle's award.

_You know, Archer, I've been thinking about the wizarding situation..._

_And? _prompted the spirit.

_All the hiding from non-magicals... it certainly has encouraged an ostrich-hiding behavior in the society, hasn't it?_

_It is a reasonable explanation._ Archer conceded.

_Still have a few more years of this... maybe I should move to Japan... _Harry mused absently.

He also kept an eye on Ginny Weasley, and caught her giving him a frightened glance when she read the article mentioning Riddle's name, and flinching whenever anybody said the name. The diary was safely stored away in his workshop, and he hadn't touched it ever since the first time, so he wasn't too worried.

Since the article did not contain Tom's middle name, nobody realized that it was Voldemort's real name. Although Harry did wonder if anyone outside of the Ravenclaws would realize the anagram present if he had inserted that. As for the girls who were at Hagrid's with him, none of them mentioned their belief that Riddle was the actual Heir; all of them could tell that people weren't likely to believe a halfblood being the Heir of Slytherin.

Over the next few days before the weekend the flea market was being held, Harry returned to his usual schedule; studying science and magic, practicing his magecraft, teaching Alchemy to a determined Hermione, keeping up with his physical training, and searching through the Room of Hidden Things, taking turns with each. Regarding the latter, Harry had managed to cover approximately half of the entire area already, and he recently encountered a few pests that were easily taken care of with his magic. The experience left him with a healthy respect for the hidden dangers, and he read **Common Magical Household Pests** to be better prepared; so far he had yet to encounter a Boggart, but at least he would be somewhat ready in the event he did meet one.

The day before the event itself, Harry finally agreed to let Hermione try her hand at transmutation. On his way back from Quidditch training that night, he met her in an empty classroom where the materials were already prepared. Within a few minutes, she drew a perfect alchemical array for him on a sheet of paper. After he pronounced it safe to try, she placed her hands on the edge and reshaped a block of wood into the form of a growling lion in a crackle of blue lightning.

"Yes!" The bushy-haired girl cheered excitedly. "I did it! I did it!"

"Good job, Hermione." Harry congratulated her. _She took longer, but that's because she's balancing this with her schoolwork._

"Let me try a few more." Hermione begged, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Smiling, Harry shrugged. "Sure."

All of them turned out to be successes. Later, as they were heading back to Gryffindor tower, their conversation on Alchemy turned to tomorrow's flea market. Hermione and Harry's parents had sent a great number of old storybooks, telling them to try and get them sold.

"Do you think anyone will want them?" Hermione asked, a note of worry in her voice.

"I'm sure some of the Ravenclaws will be eager to have some new reading material." Harry reassured her, absently deflecting a water balloon Peeves flung at them. _Been a while since that poltergeist tried anything..._

"But..." Hermione glanced at Peeves with some worry, but seeing Harry ignore him, did the same.

"Enough, Hermione. It's no use worrying about it, okay? Just wait and see."

She sighed, and nodded with some reluctance. "Oh, alright."

When they crawled through the portrait hole, the two of them found Neville waiting for them, looking flustered. Looking around, they saw the rest of the people in the House looking uncharacteristically grim.

"Harry! You, your-" The boy seemed unsure of what to say.

"Calm down, Neville." Harry said patiently. "What's the matter?"

"Somebody's been through your stuff, man." Dean was the one to answer, coming down the stairs from the dormitories. "Ron and Neville's too."

"What." Harry's voice was flat.

_It appears you underestimated Ginny Weasley._ Archer murmured.

"What do you mean?" Harry blurted out without meaning to.

"Just what I said. Our room has been ransacked. Looks like a tornado hit it." Dean jerked his head towards the stairs. "You better come look."

When they went back up, followed by Hermione, the sight that awaited them was shocking, enough so to explain why Neville had been so panicked.

His trunk had been forced open, and all its contents had been scattered all over the room. Some of the ink bottles had been smashed, causing splatters of ink. The school cloak lay on the floor, a jagged rend running down one side. Similarly, the bed was a total mess, the sheets in tatters while the mattress was hanging half off the bed frame. His cabinet had been similarly emptied, the contents dumped out over the bed and floor. The same went for his book bag, which was turned inside out with a few tears in it.

Neville's was in a similar state, and so was Ron, but to a lesser degree. The entire scene looked like the work of a vandal at first glance, but with Archer's directions, Harry could see that the perpetrator was searching rather than destroying. One of the obvious pieces of evidences was that every single robe had their pockets turned inside out.

_Good thing I keep my science books, magecraft materials and Alchemy equipment elsewhere, _thought Harry as he looked around the room, _But the question here is, how did Ginny suspect that I had the diary?_

_Perhaps she asked Myrtle. The three of you were there when you first picked up the diary, and she was watching when you did. _Archer reminded him.

_Ah, I see. _Harry turned to the rest. "So any idea who did it?" He asked, projecting a worried image.

The other boys shook their head. "Not a clue." Neville was the one to say.

"But," Hermione gasped, "Only a Gryffindor could have-... no one else knows our password..."

"Seamus went to get McGonagall." Dean told Harry. "She'll settle this."

Minutes later, the elderly witch turned up. On seeing the state of the room, her lips thinned dangerously. She clean and repaired everything with a few waves of her wand, before heading down to the common room and summoning everyone in the tower.

"The second-year boys dormitory was found to be vandalized. I want the culprit to own up right NOW!" More than a few students jumped at the last word being shouted. McGonagall was very angry.

Standing near her with the rest of his roommates, Harry was thinking, _She really jumped to conclusions quickly, didn't she? And thanks to her, the evidence has been erased..._

Archer was in agreement. _If these is how they handle things around here, it could set a dangerous precedent._

"Well?" McGonagall demanded.

Many students fidgeted uncomfortably under her scrutinizing glare, but no one came forward. Harry noticed Ginny was so pale she looked almost like a ghost, but the posture of her body indicated that she had no intention of admitting her crime.

_What should I do, Archer? Let her go with this? _Harry asked silently as he looked elsewhere.

_Confronting her in front of a crowd is most definitely a bad idea. Plus, while they do not really show it, her brothers do care about her. You would alienate all four of them if you did. _Archer cautioned.

_Then what happens if she tries again?_

_Somehow, _Archer commented, _I don't think that will happen._

Harry tried to figure out what exactly Archer was basing that guess on, but couldn't manage to do so. In the end, no matter how much McGonagall threatened, no one came forward to take the blame. In the end, she simply deducted fifty points from Gryffindor, and left the Prefects with instructions to look out for the culprit. Despite the tension, the rest of the Gryffindors did their best to try and go to sleep, since tomorrow was something they were looking forward to.

* * *

_I guess I can chalk this one down as a success. _Harry thought with a grin as he looked around at the crowd.

_Don't forget to thank Dean Thomas for the idea. _Archer reminded him.

_I'll do it right now. _Harry searched for the black-skinned boy in the crowd.

The first ever Hogwarts flea market opened at eight o'clock in the morning, and there was a huge crowd present. As Harry had predicted, all kinds of goods were being sold; books, jewelry, ornaments, clothes, those were the most common kind of items that Harry could see. The Student Council was also holding its own stall, with Harry selling his Quills and the Butterbeers from Hogsmeade at the same time. He had quite a bit of fun trying to act like a salesperson, extolling the usefulness of his own creations to anyone who passed by. The teachers already knew that he was the one behind them, but this was the first time he was promoting them blatantly in front of the school faculty.

"Care to purchase an Assignment Quill? Very useful for meeting that troublesome deadline that you normally won't be able to! Feel pressured by your OWL or NEWT workload? Then step right up and buy one for yourself! You won't regret it!" Noticing someone eyeing the bottles of Butterbeer, Harry slid over. "Butterbeer for you?"

The boy nodded. "Sure. Give me one."

Harry accepted the coins and handed back the correct change. "Here you go. Thank you for your business. Would you like to buy a Quill?"

Needless to say, Harry managed to offload his entire stock with great profit. After some time, Hannah came by to take over for him, and Harry went to see what the rest of the school had to offer.

Ravenclaw seemed to be dealing predominantly in books, and Hermione's initially humongous collection of storybooks had already dwindled down to three volumes after they went through. Hufflepuff had their members all wearing eye-catching yellow shirts, making it a bit hard to look at them directly. Given the large number of mundane-born students in the House, it was no surprise that most of their items were non-magical in nature. In contrast, Slytherin's goods were old, relatively expensive, and usually had some form of magic on them. Out of the four Houses, Gryffindor seemed to have the most boring collection, selling mainly memorabilia like Quidditch professional team pennants and photos with autographs, and used copies of wizarding games such as Gobstones or Exploding Snap card packs, but they made up for it in interesting ways.

One of them involved Dean. Harry found the boy sitting before an easel as a Ravenclaw girl sat in a chair facing him, his hand holding a pencil and sketching a pretty good impression of her features.

"Hey Dean. That's pretty good."

"Yeah, thanks." Dean replied absently. "I remembered seeing some guy doing this at a flea market before. So I thought, why not?"

Harry nodded. "Anyway, I want to say thanks for the idea."

Dean waved his other hand. "No problem."

He saw Neville selling a few of his plants and waved to the blonde, but didn't go over to talk. Instead, he drifted around browsing through the various offerings. As he was flipping through a slightly used book filled with interesting charms, Harry felt somebody tap him on the shoulder. Turning, he saw Daphne, who beckoned to him. Following her, he found himself at a Slytherin-run stall with a collection of jewelry, particularly rings and necklaces.

"Still interested in these, I take it?" She asked mischievously.

"Yeah, thanks, Daphne." Harry grinned, and began examining them.

He found a number of fakes in them, but he also found a few genuine articles; a silver ring with an emerald, a necklace with black pearls, and a few others, Harry bought them all. Daphne teased him on who he was planning to give those to, but he just countered by saying she was hoping to get one off him.

"You have to do better than that, Potter." She replied archly.

Harry thought quickly, then leaned to the side to peer over her shoulder. "Hey, who's that guy?"

She fell for it, turning around to look. Harry used that chance to escape with his purchases. He found himself near the teachers' table, where they had their own sale of items. Harry weathered Snape's sneer as he walked past several foul-smelling ingredients, preferring to focus more on some of the other things. Sprout was selling plants like Neville, except hers were more vibrant and in greater variety. McGonagall was overseeing security with Draco, but Flitwick was selling several stylish chess sets along with his store of charmed toys, and some of them had exquisite detail.

Lockhart was at the end of the table smiling brightly at anyone who came near him, surrounded by copies of his books similar to how he was in the bookstore all those months ago. However, the difference was that there weren't many customers interested. Or rather, none at all. The only ones who approached him were the few girls that still retained their hero worship towards him, and that didn't include Hermione, Harry was pleased to see.

_That's his problem for trying to sell something he made mandatory for the students to have as textbooks. _Harry thought with some sadistic humor as he slipped back into the crowd. _Not that I bought all of them in the first place._

_Don't gloat, _Archer admonished, _It's not nice._

_Okay, okay. _Harry allowed himself a quick smile, then turned his attention to a series of pewter goblets.

Daphne kept shooting him sharp looks for what he did earlier, making him look away uncomfortably.

When the call of the event was sounded, Harry had to admit he was very pleased with the outcome. In addition to the gems he had obtained, he also managed to get two books, one on enchanting and the other on runes, plus a few ornaments made out of materials he was itching to try Alchemy on. The highlight was a basic rune engraving set that was a good deal cheaper than anything that could be found in Diagon Alley, purchased from a third-year student who dropped the subject.

Hermione was naturally curious about it, and though she wouldn't admit it, slightly jealous as well. Professor McGonagall had recently announced to them that they would be asked to pick their supplementary subjects for the third year over the Easter Holidays, and Harry had naturally started asking around, for the purpose of putting together a helpful pamphlet for the second-years. Of course, it wouldn't be for free.

The tip jar they had left at the Student Council booth was overflowing with money, showing how popular the event had been. Even Draco was broadly grinning when Harry placed the jar on the table in the office. When they counted, they found they had nineteen Galleons, thirteen Sickles, and about a hundred Knuts. Counting the tax they put on the sales, they made nearly fifty Galleons in total.

"What will we do with the money?" Su asked the question of everyone's mind.

"Use it for our next event?" suggested Hannah.

"That sounds good. The question is what event should we have next?"

They brainstormed, but couldn't think of anything good. Still, when Harry dismissed them, none of them could help feeling pleased that they had accomplished something good today.

However, Harry headed for his workshop, making sure that he wasn't followed by using the Map and Cloak together to throw off the people that had started following him around of late; none of them was Ginny Weasley, though. Slipping into the room behind the painting, he took a moment to check that the diary was safely behind its barrier and unable to influence him before putting away his items.

Kicking back onto the couch, Harry thought about his current situation. So far, his Alchemy was progressing fine; at the moment, he was attempting to polish his control by transmuting with minimal 'scarring' left on the completed product. His magecraft was also on a similar track, as he worked on increasing the speed with which he raised bounded fields, while he had tried charging a better quality gem (a ruby on a ring he had found in the Room) to see how well it held the prana. Harry estimated with a few more months of study, he would feel confident enough to attempt actually manipulating the gem structure itself; his experiments on tweaking the filtration property of the various jewels was paying off quite well, and depending on the results of his current experiment, he might actually be able to isolate some of the altered prana to find out what about it had changed.

In terms of physical ability, he was at a dead end, since his body needed to grow further before it could handle what he envisioned of it. At the moment, he was just maintaining the current level; the various fights Harry put himself through in the Room was only honing his mental ability in battle. According to Archer, he was starting to develop an ability known as the Eye of the Mind, which would benefit him greatly in an actual fight. But in the end, Harry decided that there was no rush to get a powerful body, and thus physical training would be toned down slightly. He certainly had enough of it during Quidditch training, especially with the Hufflepuff match coming up.

On the other hand, Harry thought he could work on his archery skills a bit more. While he could feel the unity of archer, arrow and target somewhat, there was no reason he couldn't strive to go further. As such, Harry made his mind up to aim for even smaller bullseyes the next time he practiced his shooting. Archer certainly drove the point home when he told Harry the story about the three archers who hit a fish set as a target for them by a king, and how the three had aimed for the body, the head, and the eye of the fish respectively.

That left his wizarding magic. Harry recalled a conversation he had with Daphne recently. According to her, magic was viewed differently by wizards and the mundane-born. The former perceived it as a way of life, while the latter saw it as an additional tool that could be used. Harry certainly could see the truth of that; even someone like Hermione started out by keeping her own wand up in her dorm room, instead of carrying it on her person at all times. He couldn't imagine someone like Daphne ever letting her own wand go more than a meter away from her willingly.

That made him think about how he viewed his own magic. Certainly, it wasn't either of the two, but somewhere in between. If he ever considered any of his abilities a way of life, it would be magecraft that would take that role, because of how closely it was linked to his own death. Harry wasn't sure if it was the similarities magic had with magecraft, or magecraft displacing magic from that role, that was the reason he didn't view magic as a way of life.

_Wait, why am I thinking about all this? This makes me feel like I'm some old man._

_Then what would that make me? _Archer interjected.

Harry was silent for a moment. _...okay, never mind. Somehow, it feels like that topic would open up a can of worms._

Well, Harry reasoned, in the end, his way of life was something that he was still searching for. Magecraft, magic or Alchemy, those were the paths that he was taking to uncover it. For now, he decided to start planning on how he was going to try entering the Chamber of Secrets without getting killed by the Basilisk within. Getting off the couch, he went to get some paper and ink to help him along.

Meanwhile, Archer was contemplating the fact that Harry was already starting to search for his Origin without consciously realizing it. The Origin was the driving force extending from Akasha to various forms of existences, differing between each, but exerting an effect upon each and every one. Harry had encountered the term in one of the magecraft books Zelretch had left, but had forgotten about it in the influx of other information. Archer's own Origin was Sword, and was one of the factors that powered his Reality Marble. But despite their link, Archer and Harry were two separate existences, and thus they would bear different Origins.

Taking care to keep his thoughts veiled from Harry, Archer thought to himself, _That damn Zelretch had his hand in my summoning to this world, and he hasn't really taken it away yet. I can't help but feel that he's trying to test something here... but what?_

In the end, Archer resolved to continue watching over Harry, and hopefully keep him from getting into any more trouble. Although it appeared that Harry was purposely trying to find his way into it, given the fact that he intended to go into the lair of a beast who could kill by making direct eye contact.

_What a troublesome host... trying to make my job harder than it has to be... _Archer grumbled, but there was a small smirk at the corner of his lips.

* * *

And that's another chapter, one that doesn't bring up canonical events apart from the room searching. It took me a while to get this out because I had class tests to study for. That and the more fanfics I read, the more of my mental processing power is used to integrate and enjoy the information, instead of powering my muse. But it's out, so that's that.

So far, I'm relying on random whims to build this story. Will Harry have to rescue someone from the Chamber? I have no idea. The only thing to do is to wait and see.

Regarding Harry's abilities, he's growing, and at a gradual pace, so no super!Harry suddenly. Did I say this before? Sometimes I lose track of what I've written. Not a good thing, I know. But I try my best.

Anyway, just read and review this chapter!


	22. Tenth Curse

_Alright, Harry, that's enough, _warned Archer.

Exhaling, the white-haired boy lowered his arms, and looked at the results of his training. Out of the twenty targets the Room had produced for him, only one still remained standing, but only barely. The rest were riddled with cracks and holes from the Gandr Fin Shots he fired. Checking the condition of his single circuit, he judged it enough for one more shot.

Walking over to the desk the Room had provided, Harry grabbed the towel resting on the chair and starting mopping off sweat. On the table, there was a book with a quill balanced on its point on it, having written down the results of his training.

Suddenly, Harry spun around and tossed the towel up in the air. His right hand dropped down and formed the shape of a gun with the fingers. A blob of energy formed at the tip of his index finger, then shot towards the remaining target.

It blasted off the top left corner of the target, a miss. The towel landed on top of Harry's head, and he grimaced.

_Firing like that isn't as easy as you think. _Archer admonished. _Don't force yourself anymore._

Sighing, Harry plopped down into the chair. According to the book, he managed to score seventy-seven out of the eighty-one shots he fired, with forty of them being bullseyes. It was rather good, but he still felt he could do better. The only problem was that he needed to give his circuit some time to rest before he could use it again.

No matter how much he tried, Harry couldn't use any of Archer's circuits to power a Gandr, only the one he made himself. _Maybe I should try making another one?_

_No. It's too dangerous to do so alone. _

_I knew you'd say that. _Harry sighed again, and closed the book.

He did a bit of weight training, followed by a cool-down run, before deeming his exercise for the day completed. After using the shower provided by the Room, a fresh-smelling Harry Potter left for Gryffindor tower.

"Lion's pride." He gave the password to the Fat Lady, and climbed through the hole when she swung open.

He found his Gryffindor friends seated in a corner, and they noticed him as well.

"Harry, over here!" Hermione called, waving.

Approaching them, Harry saw that they were trying to decide what supplementary subjects to take in the third year. Judging from the looks of those at the table, his bushy-haired friend had dragooned them into dealing with things now. For her, it was clearly serious business.

"Having trouble deciding?" He asked, slightly amused.

"I don't see why we have to do this now." Ron complained. "We've got the whole of the Easter holidays to decide!"

"It could affect our whole future." Hermione pointed out.

"How about you, Neville?" Harry asked the one person who had yet to say a thing.

He was surprised to see that Neville had a load of paper that was bigger than the one in front of Hermione. Peeking at the top one, Harry realized it was a letter from a relative extolling the benefits of Divination, and guessed that the entire pile were various versions of the same.

"Where's yours, Harry?" Hermione asked, a bit brusquely.

"Up in my trunk." He replied. "I only just came back, remember?"

Her cheeks pinked. "Sorry."

_You know, she almost never apologizes to anyone else for her roughshod personality, except you. _Archer mentioned in a casual tone.

_That's because I'm her friend, isn't it? _

Archer sighed, and muttered, _Naive._

Frowning in confusion, Harry headed up the stairs to get his list. Sometimes, he wondered whether Archer was really sane after sharing his mind for so long. Maybe he should let the spirit share control during the next archery practice...

When he returned, he found Percy Weasley speaking to the group. "Really, it all depends on where you want to _go_." The redhead was lecturing. "If you're thinking about the future, I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community-"

_Damn right, _thought Harry.

"-particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them." Percy continued, "Look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more of an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures."

"Wait, what about your eldest brother?" Harry asked, drawing Percy's attention. He had heard about the person in question from the twins, who described him as a pretty fun guy despite his stellar school record.

The older teenager peered at Harry over his glasses. "Bill? He's working for Gringotts as a curse breaker, so that would mean he took Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, both of which are necessary to deal with the dangers that come with that job. None of you intend to become a curse breaker?"

The four second-years shook their head, though privately Harry thought that knowing how to work with curse wards would be a useful bit of knowledge.

"Then all I can say is to play to your strengths." Percy advised.

Ten minutes later, they were joined by Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, and they had yet to decide on what to pick, except for Hermione. She simply signed up for every single class, despite Harry's attempts to dissuade her. The others noticed when he brought up a very good point for his side.

"I don't get why you're taking Muggle Studies, you'll already know everything that's being taught!" Harry didn't like to use the term 'Muggle', but since it was part of the title, he had no choice. "And you know what? I had a look at the books that they use, and they're out of date."

"You're taking Muggle Studies?" Dean asked. "What for?" Ron and Seamus nodded, while Neville continued to read through his relatives' letters and didn't really notice.

Hermione blushed. "I thought it might be interesting to learn about them from a wizarding point of view." She said, her voice pitched high with embarrassment.

_That's a pretty plausible reason. Still... _"Not if the wizarding perspective is a _bit_ far behind." Harry deadpanned.

"Oh? How do you know that?" Hermione wanted to know.

"I asked to look at the textbooks, I said already."

Hermione stood up. "Fine! I'll just go see for myself!" She went off to look for Percy Weasley, the only prefect she knew who took the subject.

_Geez, what's gotten into her, anyway? _Harry wondered, not exactly liking his friend's touchy attitude nowadays.

"Mmm... Do you think Arithmancy sounds harder than Ancient Runes?" Neville asked, finally looking up.

The rest of the boys stared at him, until Dean sniggered. It set the rest of them off into chuckles, while a bewildered Neville asked what they found so funny. In the end, they decided to read through the letters he received, following Harry's reasoning that Neville's relatives might be able to explain things well enough for them to make a decision. After Hermione finally returned with the realization that Harry had been right, she joined in as well. It raised her mood slightly when one of the letters revealed that they did not have to take the class in order to take the OWLs for the subject.

"I hear Divination's an easy O." Ron remarked, ticking it off his list.

Harry didn't follow. He recalled Archer's tale about encountering his past self in the Grail War, and the reactions both existences had towards each other. _Predicting the future's one thing, being convinced that it is set in stone is another. I don't think I'll pick this. _

He looked up to see Dean close his eyes and start jabbing his wand at the list, and raised an eyebrow before looking around at the rest. Neville was still undecided, while Seamus looked over at Dean's list and marked the same choices, joining his friend in the same classes. When he checked with Hermione, he found that she simply excluded Muggle Studies, but was still intent on taking the rest.

Then Harry thought of something. "Hey, Ron, Seamus, why didn't you ask your parents for help about this?"

"I did." Seamus replied, shrugging. "Care of Magical Creatures, which I already chose."

Ron didn't say anything, but finally answered when pressed. "Didn't ask. I don't like my mom pushing me to choose this or that."

Realizing it was a sensitive issue, the rest of them abandoned that subject. In the end, Harry selected Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, since he was already touching on those subjects with his forays into Jewel Magecraft. Neville picked Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, the same as Ron, despite Harry's attempts to persuade the blonde that he had the ability to do better than the easiest subjects. None of them picked Muggle Studies.

Still, it made Harry realize something. But he wasn't the only one; when he met up with the rest of the Council, all of them had the same idea: to have some of the older students explain the classes to the second-years so they would be better informed about what to choose. Like with the flea market, they moved fast, asking and finding out the top scorers of each of the five subjects, before requesting their assistance, and had everything arranged for tomorrow evening. Oddly enough, Ravenclaw only held that position in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, with the other three positions distributed evenly across the remaining Houses.

The teachers agreed to let them use the Great Hall again, and McGonagall decided to make use of the opportunity to have the Heads of House collect the forms back afterwards.

Harry spent the morning of that day going around the castle helping out the seniors with preparing their presentation, as well as coordinating everything. It encouraged him greatly when he heard their praise for the Student Council.

And for some reason, he seemed to be drawing a different kind of attention from the older girls. Harry was understandably confused by it, but believed Archer when the spirit told him he didn't have to worry about it for the time being.

As with the flea market, the talk was a roaring success, with a number of kind older students turning up to offer a more long-term account of what it meant to be in those classes, mingling among the second-years afterwards to give out advice personally. One of them actually managed to convince Neville to try taking Ancient Runes, by mentioning how they were used in the care of certain magical plants. When the last of the forms were handed in, McGonagall called on the students remaining in the hall to give the Student Council a round of applause for their help in organizing the entire thing, which they gladly provided.

All in all, March was a good month.

* * *

Harry tossed another book into the already huge pile, then stopped and sighed. _This seems endless... _He looked around at the amount of junk remaining; after months of labor, he had come pretty far, but there was still a long, long way to go. _I still haven't had the chance to really examine the things I bought at the flea market._

It didn't help that Oliver Wood was increasing the number of training sessions in the time leading up to tomorrow's match against Hufflepuff, cutting down his free time in the evenings to nil and once again making him rely on his Assignment Quill to complete his homework on time. He had only gotten tonight off because the team needed to properly recover their energy.

_Come to think of it, I haven't been cooking for a while now. _Harry realized. _Maybe I'll go down tomorrow after the match. _

Checking his watch, Harry saw that he had another hour before he had to go back, and decided to make the best of it.

He had a bit of fun when he came across an old spear, which he swung around using some of the fighting knowledge provided by Archer. Going through a series of thrusts, sweeps and blocks was quite relaxing, especially with how his body moved smoothly and surely through the patterns. According to Archer, the last user of the spear wasn't very good with it, which might explain why it ended up getting discarded.

After putting it aside to continue his search, Harry was once again distracted, but this time by a book.

_**The Magic of Unicorns**__... Looks like an interesting read. _Harry flipped through a few pages. _That reminds me... I still have that unicorn horn from last year... Wonder if I'll just keep it as it is? _It didn't feel right using the gift he received as potions ingredients anyway. _Or will I find something of use here? _

In the end, Harry didn't make any further progress, being deeply engrossed in the book, enough so that even Archer didn't interrupt him. Nowadays, he rarely used Structural Analysis on books that he found really interesting unless there was an urgent need, preferring to go through the text at his own pace. In some way, the associated memory of flipping through the pages helped him to retain the information better. Harry finally brought the book back with him to his dorm, so he could continue reading it later.

The last thought he had before dropping off to sleep was how much he had to do and how little time he had for them.

Saturday dawned bright and cool, which were perfect Quidditch conditions according to Oliver. The burly teenager was extremely lively the moment he appeared in the Great Hall, loading his team members' plates with food without them asking. While Harry appreciated the concern over having a decent breakfast, the lack of respect for personal space annoyed him slightly.

_You can vent that out during the match. _Archer told him.

Harry's response was to grunt.

When they had eaten enough, the seven of them returned to the tower to collect their brooms and change into their Quidditch robes. At half past ten, the Gryffindor team were in the locker room, listening to Oliver giving them a pep talk. Most of it was reused material from last year's matches, but the underlying emotion was genuine; Oliver was set on winning the Quidditch Cup, no matter what. Hufflepuff was just another obstacle to that goal.

"We'll win this." The teenager repeated for the umpteenth time. "We have to."

"Relax a little, Oliver. You'll end up cramping if you go out that tense." Harry advised.

"Relax? RELAX? This could be the crucial difference between winning the Cup and falling short again like we did last year!" Oliver shouted hysterically.

"Anyone know a Calming Charm?" George asked the team.  
"Or carry a Calming Draught?" His twin added.

The rest of them except Oliver shook their heads, and Harry facepalmed as well.

"Whatever you say, Oliver." said Harry. "Early catch or wait for points?" _Come to think of it, I haven't seen that Dobby around ever since the match with Slytherin... I hope he's not going to make another attempt today._

Just to be safe, he scanned his broom, and was relieved to find it perfectly normal. Still, he made sure to mention his worries to Oliver.

The older boy clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, I made sure to remind Madam Hooch about what happened with that Bludger in the last match. She'll check them before releasing them out."

With another ten minutes to go, Harry decided to test things just in case. He headed off to the toilet after giving an excuse, and set up a small bounded field in the stall he locked himself in. From what he remembered about house elves, they could not go against their master's orders, but somehow they could appear whenever their master called for them. Given what Dobby had managed to do so far, he might be able to sense Harry's summons.

"Dobby." He called the house elf's name.

There was a pause, but nothing happened.

_Guess it didn't-_

There was a loud crack, and Dobby suddenly appeared on top of the covered toilet seat. "Harry Potter called Dobby?" The elf froze when it saw a Stunner arrow aimed in its face.

"Don't appear like that!" Harry was annoyed that he was shocked by the sudden appearance. He lowered his bow and transformed it back into the watch. "Are you trying to injure me again?"

"No, no! Dobby would never hurt Harry Potter! Only wants to save Harry Potter's life!"

_Somehow, I find it hard to see a difference. _"I stopped the danger already. You don't have to do anything else."

Dobby's eyes widened. "Harry Potter has stopped the danger?" He repeated slowly.

"Yeah. It was a small book, right?" Harry noticed Dobby's shocked expression. "A diary. I found it, and I have it kept safely away until I can destroy it."

The elf suddenly burst into tears, crying at a very loud volume. Harry winced, thankful that his bounded field would keep anyone outside from noticing.

"Harry Potter truly is a great wizard! Greater than Dobby knew! How brave and noble!" The elf praised him shrilly, leaking big teardrops all the while.

"What about you, Dobby?" Harry suddenly asked, causing the elf to stop halfway. _He's received more injuries... he's being abused. _His expression darkened, as he compared Dobby to his life at the Dursleys, and found it dangerously similar. "Do you need help?"

"Dobby... Dobby wants..." Dobby suddenly gulped, and continued in a hushed tone. "Dobby wants to be _free_."

As Harry expected, his companion in the stall suddenly froze as whatever magic that commanded his existence went into effect. And because he was expecting it, the elf was knocked unconscious by his Stunner before Dobby could injure himself.

Harry put his bow away again, sighing.

_What are you intending to do, Harry? _Archer asked.

_Isn't it obvious? _Harry replied, pulling out a piece of paper and writing a message on it. _I'm going to help him. _He tucked the paper into Dobby's pillowcase, then left the stall. The bounded field would break down on its own.

"Took you a while, Harry." Fred remarked.  
"Having a bit of trouble pushing it out?"  
"Wouldn't we hear a lot more grunting and groaning then?" Fred asked his brother.  
"Oh, you're right. Unless Harry's the silent type."

"You guys are disgusting." Katie informed them.

Alicia nodded in agreement. "Grow up, will you?"

"Grow up?"  
"Why would we want to do that?"  
"Terribly boring."  
"No fun at all."  
"Better to stay young."  
"And stupid." said Fred, who suddenly paused. "I mean-"

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Oliver announced, cutting off the twins in the middle of their antics. "It's time."

They walked onto the field to tumultuous applause, and Oliver had them mount their brooms for a warm-up flight around the pitch. Harry spotted Madam Hooch checking over the balls one last time, and the Hufflepuff team huddled together at the opposite end for a final tactics discussion session.

Hooch gathered them for a reminder of the rules and had the captains on both teams shake hands. She released the balls, blew the whistle, and they were off.

_It's been a long time since I flew in the morning. _With all the trainings Oliver had in the evenings, they balanced it out by resting on the mornings of the weekends. (Slytherin hogged the pitch during those times) _Makes everything stand out in much more detail. Particularly..._

Gryffindor ended up winning one-hundred and sixty to zero, as Harry took a chance on where the Snitch was going to fly, and nabbed it as it shot past.

The Hufflepuff Seeker came up to him after he landed with the Snitch in hand. "Man, you're good. I hadn't even started looking yet."

"Can't say it was all my skill. I had to catch the Snitch in evening conditions, so in bright conditions like this..."

The older boy nodded. "You can see it a lot better. Good game, Potter." He stuck out his hand.

Harry grabbed it and shook the boy's hand. "Good game. And you are?"

"Diggory. Cedric Diggory." The handsome teenager introduced himself.

"Potter. Harry Potter. Good luck against Slytherin." He squeezed the hand and let go.

"Thanks."

"Great catch, Harry!" Oliver shouted, grabbing Harry up in a tight hug. "Party in Gryffindor tower tonight!" The rest of the team cheered enthusiastically.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully for Harry, who was unable to sneak off as people wanted to congratulate him on his win. Hannah did so politely when he met her, while Su did so with a light blush. Draco was exuberant, stating that he won some money betting on Harry. In the end, Harry retreated to the library, where he started reading the unicorn book.

It certainly was informative, far more so than anything he had read on the subject before. According to it, a unicorn was linked to the purity of life, which was why its blood could prolong the life of those who imbibed the silvery fluid. However, the act of harming a unicorn to obtain the blood would affect that purity, which was the reason for the drinker being cursed; the impure nature of the blood would affect the drinker, somehow affecting the mind while the rest of the body remained undamaged. The corruption would eventually progress until the drinker eventually went mad, though they would usually kill themselves before then.

_How did they find out this kind of stuff? _Harry wondered. _Don't tell me they did ground research on this, having people drink unicorn blood?_

_That's the dark side of researching, Harry. _Archer pointed out.

_...Somehow, this book doesn't seem all that nice and friendly anymore. _Harry remarked, closing the tome. _I'll continue reading some other time._

Just as he put away the book, Hermione found him. "Psst, Harry!"

"Hermione? What is it?"

"I just remembered. Have you found Riddle's Box yet?"

The question made Harry pause. If he said yes, Hermione would instantly want to know more about it, and maybe ask him to give it to Dumbledore; while she no longer swooned over Lockhart, Hermione still had a bit of her blind respect for authority. On the other hand, if he said no, she would immediately start dragging him into it, and then... Harry suddenly thought of a possible solution.

_That might be dangerous, Harry. _Archer warned him.

_I know, but that's only if she really insists. For now, I'll try to distract her a bit._

"I'm working on it, in the free time I have." Harry said slowly. "It's not like I have a lot, with Oliver scheduling trainings so often recently."

"Well, then it's good that the match against Hufflepuff is already over, isn't it?" Hermione asked rhetorically. "Don't you think it's dangerous to leave Riddle's Box as it is?"

"Who knows, Hermione, maybe all the roosters around has killed the Basilisk and we're all safe."

"That is very irresponsible, Harry," She chided reprovingly. "What if that's not the only thing it can do?"

Harry leaned back in his chair and looked at the girl. "Then what do you propose? And before you say anything," He warned, "This isn't something we can go to Dumbledore with."

"Why not?" demanded Hermione.

"There's too little information. He'll think we're sending him on a wild goose chase." _Actually, I think he'll do it, but for reasons he'll never say. I really don't trust that old man. _"Plus we're talking about a person who thought it would be a good idea to bring the Philosopher's Stone into a school full of children."

The mention of last year's incident made Hermione huff. "Fine, you've made your point." She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. "But we have to do _something_." She insisted.

Harry sighed, not even having to fake it. "I'll see what I can do. You've got any ideas of your own?"

_Ahh... I've forgotten how nice it is to show her up sometimes... _The boy thought with amusement as he watched his friend's stunned expression.

Later, Harry managed to get away from his fans and slip into a toilet, where he called for Dobby again.

"Harry Potter has called Dobby, and Dobby has come!" announced the elf as he popped in.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, let's see if we can think of a way to get you free." Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You are freed when your owner hands you a piece of clothing, is that right?"

Dobby nodded furiously, his ears flapping back and forth quickly.

"Does it only apply to your owner only, or anyone in the family?"

"Anyone in master's family can set Dobby free if they so wished."

_He wasn't talking about the family directly, but about the rules that keep him bound, so no need for punishment. _Harry thought. "So how does magic work into it? You can't pick up a bit of clothing and pretend they gave it to you, can you?"

The elf suddenly perked up. "Dobby will try that right away! Thank you Harry Potter!" He chirped.

Harry blinked. "No, wait-"

He was too late to stop the house elf from popping away, and was left staring at a toilet seat. Throwing his hands up exasperatedly, he left the toilet muttering darkly to himself.

On the way back to Gryffindor tower, he was struck by a thought. _That's it, I can say that Dobby found someone else to get Riddle's Box, after I helped set him free. Wait, will he even be freed by doing that in the first place?_

The party in Gryffindor tower was loud and rambunctious, and Harry was the star. He couldn't go for ten minutes without hearing somebody congratulating him, talking about his superb flying, or offering him a Butterbeer, which the twins had snuck back from Hogsmeade, despite the fact that he was holding one already. His teammates were telling him to let them show off some of their skill next time, and to repeat his earlier feat during the next match against Ravenclaw, apparently not registering that they were contradicting themselves. Harry ended up feeling rather annoyed shortly after the first hour.

He was looking around the common room, and spotted Ginny Weasley. A few days after the attempted raid on the second-year Gryffindor boys' dorm, she began opening up more to the girls in her year. Now she was happily chatting away with a blond girl her size.

_Too bad she still won't stop taking peeks at me. _Harry thought as he swirled the remainder of his drink. _Two more months to the exams... and surprisingly, Hermione isn't studying. But I'm sure she will soon. I need to start revising myself... and then there's still the matter of the Chamber to deal with._

That thought soon led him on to others. Justin and Colin were still Petrified, and had been for months already. When they woke up, they would certainly need to do a bit of catching up to match the standard of the rest.

_Harry, relax a little, will you? _Archer scolded him. _Worrying so much will be bad for your health._

_I have a lot of things to worry about, remember. _Harry replied, taking another swig of his drink.

_You're still young, Harry. Not everything has to be done right away._

Harry sighed. _Fine. _"Who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?" He called out, to enthusiastic response.

* * *

The coming days made Harry question whether he or Archer was right. For one thing, he had forgotten how the teachers would overload them with homework as the exams approached. He was already resigned to not finding the Horcrux in the Room of Hidden Things before the end of this year, and was hard pressed to maintain his mundane studies and magecraft research. He didn't even have the time to finish reading the unicorn book, damn it! At the moment, he was with the rest of his study group in their commandeered room, cramming for the exams on top of everything else the teachers were piling on them.

McGonagall set them on performing all of the Transfigurations they had covered over the past year, followed by short-answer questions on them. Flitwick was the same, but with more focus on the practical aspect. Personally, Harry found Herbology and Potions the hardest to cope with, because both called for him to know both the theory and the practical portions.

However, the same could not be said of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Word around the students was that Gilderoy Lockhart was a poor teacher; if not for Harry's 'help' on what topics to teach, most of them wouldn't have learned anything more than the details of the man's public life and alleged heroic deeds. Lockhart himself was also starting to have some difficulty keeping up the act, especially since Harry had largely withdrawn that assistance ever since that disastrous match against Slytherin by refusing to go near the man. Having the gall to claim responsibility for stopping the attacks was only exacerbating things, since everyone knew that it was Harry Potter who first theorized that it was a Basilisk behind them, and later proved it with the help of Luna Lovegood. Archer predicted that he would cut his losses and flee by the end of the year, before his reputation took too much of a hit.

As for the other subjects such as Astronomy and History of Magic, Harry didn't care very much about them. He knew that Astronomy had its application in Divination, Potions, and certain esoteric rituals, but those weren't handled at his level, and thus he wasn't interested. History of Magic was already notorious for its useless teacher and equally dry topics; it was a wonder that some students still took the NEWTs for them. Harry was certain he wouldn't be doing so.

Regarding the issue of the exams themselves, Harry knew for a fact that the Ravenclaws were being tutored by Flitwick in the evenings, when he had caught sight of the cluster of students on the Map, and confirmed it with Luna afterwards. The same could be said for Sprout and Snape, but McGonagall was wearing too many hats for her to do the same with the Gryffindors, and they weren't really the best of students in the first place. Harry's respect for her was declining slightly because of that; couldn't she see that she was sacrificing her ability as the Head of House to perform as Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress?

Harry shook his head. _I'm getting distracted again... _He glanced over at where Hermione was frantically revising her thick pile of notes. _Wonder what her reaction would be if I mentioned my reservations about McGonagall to her? She'd probably blow up or something. _He smiled at the frantic manner in which his bushy-haired friend was acting. _Thankfully she stopped asking me for Alchemy lessons, or I'd have even less time than I do now._

Once again, Harry pulled out his list of things to do to check it over. He had dealt with Riddle's Book by sealing it away, and largely finished exploring the castle, which had yielded the existence of the Room of Requirement, so those two items were off the list. Dealing with the Chamber and finding the Horcrux in the Room were now at the top, followed by uncovering more about Sirius Black's case, and learning about wizarding law and house elves. (All written in code to conceal it from other people's eyes)

Harry ran his hand through his hair repeatedly in frustration. There was just so much to do; while he knew that only OWLs and NEWTs applied to one's resume, which meant he could do poorly every year as long as he excelled on those two crucial exams, but doing so would call attention to his other activities.

_You know, in some way, I have to say you're enjoying having a secret life under that of your student life. _Archer observed, grunting as he practiced his swordsmanship in his world.

Harry considered that statement. _You might be right. I remember how some of the other kids in primary school used to play by pretending they were secret agents or something. It seemed immature to me back then, since I was already learning magecraft. _He smirked briefly. _Guess I'm in a way doing the same thing now, aren't I?_

The spirit chuckled. _It's not necessarily a bad thing. _

_No, it's not. Pretending they could use magic when magic already existed... but what was with that older boy who kept saying 'I put on my robe and wizard hat' and laughing at them? _(1)

Archer was silent. Eventually he said, _I have no idea._

But Harry suddenly blinked and sat up straight. _That's it! _He exclaimed mentally.

_That's what? _Archer was understandably confused.

_A wizard's hat! The Sorting Hat! It's just what I need when I go down into the Chamber! _The green-eyed boy was getting worked up. _It knows about the Room, so maybe it would know about the Chamber too!_

_And if it doesn't? _Archer wanted to know.

_Then it will at least know some spells to help protect me. That I'm sure of. _

_How will you even get to it in the first place? _

_I'll think of something. _

"Harry, what are you daydreaming for?"

Harry blinked and looked up to see Hermione frowning at him. "Huh?"

"There's only a few more weeks left to the exams! You don't have the time to sit around doing nothing!" She admonished.

_See what happens if you get distracted? _Archer was poking fun at him, Harry could tell.

"Sorry, Hermione, I was just worried about Defense."

Her expression softened. "I know. I can't believe I was so blind back then."

"At least you came to your senses." Harry began to grin. "But you know..."

Hermione pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Don't say it."

"I told you so."

She pouted, clearly displeased. "I told you not to say it..."

"Oh no, I'm not going to pass up a chance like this." Harry told her wickedly. "I rarely get the opportunity to say something like that, after all."

"Okay, I admit I was acting foolishly. Now will you drop it?" Hermione asked grumpily.

"Glad you admit that." Harry nodded, then looked down at his notes. "Anyway, back to what you were saying before, I was just feeling tired after all the revising, you know?"

"You and the rest of us." Cedric interjected from where he was sitting on a couch, to the laughter of the other people in the room.

Ever since the match against Hufflepuff, Harry had struck up a friendship with the likeable fourth-year student, enough to cheer the Hufflepuff team on during their match against Slytherin (they lost). He was friendly and approachable, more so than Harry was, and quite popular with most of the girls in Hogwarts. He found out about Harry's study group, and tagged along with Hannah and Sue one day to check things out, and somehow became a part of it.

Fred cleared his throat. "Well, it certainly is evident, isn't it?"  
"Indeed, my brother," George confirmed, "Our heads will be full of fluff at this rate."

Daphne groaned and cut in before they could continue whatever comedy routine they had planned. "Enough of that, you two. I don't need my headache to get any worse."

The twins went off into a corner of the room to pretend to cry tragically about how nobody appreciated them for their humor.

Cedric chuckled. "It certainly is fun in this group, isn't it? I'm sure you especially are having fun."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?" He heard Archer saying something similar before, but the spirit never elaborated on what he meant by that.

"Never mind, it's nothing." The Hufflepuff said hastily.

Harry's eyes flickered to glance around him. For some reason, the girls were shooting hard looks at Cedric, even the usually timid Su. It didn't make sense for them to act in that manner, but if Harry had to guess, he would say that there was some secret of theirs that Cedric had nearly spilled, thus eliciting this hostile reaction. As for what secret, Harry wasn't curious enough to intrude on his friends' privacy.

"Neville, got a spare bottle of ink? I'm running out." Harry called over to his blond friend, who was sitting some distance away.

"I've got one, Harry. Here you go." Susan passed him one from her bag.

"Thanks, Sue." _Why are Su, Daphne and Hermione all reaching into their bags... they didn't take anything out, that's weird. _Harry wondered as he opened the bottle to continue doing his homework.

After several minutes, he reached for the flask of water he usually carried, and found it empty. Before he even had to ask, Su passed him a goblet filled with water. Thanking her, Harry drank, but was still puzzled about the way the girls around him were acting. They normally got along fine with each other, but sometimes they just acted as though they were fighting in some way he couldn't perceive.

_Must be puberty, _he decided, _Girls go through them earlier, if I recall my facts correctly. _

No wonder some of the boys back then used to complain about cooties, given the way some of the girls acted. It was something he would probably never understand.

However, the odd occurrences were distracting, and Harry didn't get much studying done afterwards as the girls exchanged silent barbs that he was only vaguely aware of. In the end, Harry made his excuses, and subsequently fled to the privacy of his workshop. Archer was laughing at him, he could tell, even if the spirit didn't make any sound.

To distract himself from that, he began thinking about how he could get the Sorting Hat from Dumbledore's office. The immediate solution was to ask for it, but that would mean having to give a reason, and there was no guarantee that he would be allowed to take it out of the office. That left the more illegal methods.

Unfortunately, those were even harder. From what Harry recalled of the place, there were rare and valuable books, as well as several enchanted artifacts, some of them strong enough to irritate his nose slightly even after he acclimatized it in the Room of Hidden things, not to mention those moving fragile instruments. Despite the general lack of common sense in the wizarding population, the act of guarding one's valuables was natural, and thus it was safe to conclude that anything in Dumbledore's office was highly protected indeed, even the Sorting Hat. And that was on top of the bounded fields Harry detected when he entered the room.

_There's no way I'll be able to penetrate those bounded fields at my level. Have to think of some other way... Polyjuice Potion? _Harry couldn't hold back the snort. _No way that would work. What about... no, maybe I should... what if I... _Various half-formed ideas and plots swirled through his head, only to be discarded due to their unfeasibility, with Archer offering his opinions as well.

In the end, Harry left his workshop feeling glum, having been unable to think of any way. Unconsciously, his feet took him down into the basements, and it wasn't until he was standing in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit that he realized he hadn't cooked in a long while. Grinning, he tickled the pear, opened the door, and proceeded to disrupt the lives of the Hogwarts elves once more; they had thought he had finally realized well enough not to try taking over their jobs, but they were wrong.

"Yous should be letting us elves do our work, Mr Potter sir." One particularly brave elf confronted him as he transferred a well-done steak over to the corresponding plate.

"I like cooking, it helps me relax." Harry replied, in his way of explaining.

"Us elves be doing the cooking, sir!" The shrill tone with which the elf delivered those words made him think it was female.

"Okay, so maybe I should do the cleaning." Harry countered, purposely teasing the elf.

The house elf looked horrified by that suggestion, as did the rest of the elves behind her. "We be doing the cleaning too!"

Harry blinked slowly, then glanced at the empty ingredient dishes. "Oh, I just finished the last of the cooking. So I'll leave the cleaning to you then."

"NOOOOO!" The elf wailed, falling on her knees.

_I think you're enjoying messing around with other people a bit too much. _Archer observed quietly.

Harry didn't make any mention of the fact that he had gotten that quirk from Archer.

But seeing the house elves had reminded him that he could use them, or rather, use Dobby if he managed to free himself. Harry wanted to go and check up on the elf right away, but Archer reminded him that he had dinner to attend, and wouldn't stop pestering him until Harry gave in, which he did so without much protest. There was one thing to be said for both of them; their skill in the preparation of food gave them a healthy respect for mealtimes.

Dinner was a quiet affair, which was why Harry could overhear the conversation up at the teachers' table, using Reinforcement of his ears to do so. Dumbledore wasn't present; he was supposedly off at the Ministry of Magic on some Wizengamot business.

"Just another month or so before the Mandrakes are ready." Sprout was telling her fellow Head of Houses. "Mr Creevey and Mr Finch-Fletchey have a lot of work to make up for."

"Good. This whole Heir of Slytherin business has given Hogwarts more trouble than it needs." McGonagall declared. "Severus, have you any luck finding the culprit?"

"Unfortunately, this so-called Heir continues to elude me." Snape's tone made it clear he did not like that. "However, I am certain that none of my snakes are behind this."

"That stands to reason." Flitwick nodded. "The best way to avoid all the attention of being the Heir of Slytherin... would be to be in a House other than Slytherin."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Filius, surely you're not suggesting that one of my lions is behind these attacks?"

"What of your own ravens? Or my kits?" added Sprout.

"I am simply suggesting a possibility." Flitwick defended himself. "But I am fairly sure none of mine are secretly the Heir."

"Nor mine." said Sprout.

The three of them including Snape, turned as one to look at McGonagall, whose lips were tightly pinched with annoyance.

"I don't like what you're insinuating, Filius." She spoke hotly. "Might I remind you that it was one of my lions that uncovered nearly everything we currently know about the Heir?"

"Ah yes, Potter." Snape drawled. "I'm certain he was only doing it for the recognition."

"Really, Severus," Instead of McGonagall, it was Sprout who came to Harry's defense. "The boy is hardly the type."

"And you're sure of this because?" Snape countered. "For all you know, he could be as arrogant as his father."

_Guess he still dislikes me, even though I asked him quite a bit about mom last year. _Harry thought. He knew he would closely resemble his father if not for his white hair, but apparently Snape could still see the connection in his facial structure. _Or maybe that's because he's just an unpleasant git._

"James Potter was a fine man, and Harry has lived up to his reputation as the man's son." McGonagall scolded.

Snape just turned his attention back to his food, indicating his lack of interest in continuing the discussion with McGonagall. Harry continued to listen in, but without the presence of Snape in it, there wasn't much of interest to listen to.

Then Lockhart picked that moment to join them. Harry let out a soft groan on seeing the man's soft purple robes. Combined with Lockhart's perfectly curled hairstyle, he looked more like a male model than a teacher, which wasn't what was needed in a school. Harry was comforted to hear very few sighs of awe from the girls around the hall compared to the very start of this school year. Turning his eyes away so he didn't have to look at the man, Harry trained his ears on the group once more.

"Why the long faces? The danger has passed, surely! Cheer up, will you?" Lockhart seemed almost buoyant as he took a seat, right next to Snape, who did a good job of concealing his distaste. "After all, yours truly had a hand in keeping this castle safe!"

Harry frowned a little at hearing Lockhart claim credit for something he did with the help of a few of his friends and no one else. But it appeared that the four teachers could all see through his lie; McGonagall had the stern disciplinarian look, Flitwick was mildly derisive, Sprout was outraged, and Snape let out a snort of disbelief. From the looks of their expressions, their patience with the fop had just ran out.

It was McGonagall who fired the first shot of the returning salvo. "Then what are you waiting for, Gilderoy?"

"Pardon?" Lockhart's smile faded slightly.

"If you know so much, surely you know who the Heir is, right?" She continued without missing a beat.

Flitwick caught on. "Or perhaps you know where the Chamber is?" The small Professor inquired pointedly.

"I- well, I-" Lockhart was sputtering.

_It looks as though that man has been playing up his deeds for so long he has difficulty denying anything that would benefit his reputation. _Archer observed clinically.

_Oh come on, surely he can't be that stupid? _Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief. _It's setting himself up for a bigger fall that way._

_Hmm... _Archer hummed.

Harry paused. He knew that tone. _What did you figure out?_

_If I had to put it into words... I'd say that Lockhart's parasitic actions goes deeper than they initially look._

Harry pondered that for a few moments, while continuing to watch the debacle happening at the teachers' table.

"Didn't you say that you could have done better than Mr Potter and ended it all before Mr Finch-Fletchey was attacked?" Sprout chimed in.

"I-I... never- you may have misunderstood..." Lockhart's voice dropped in volume with each word.

"And that you could have easily defeated the Basilisk anytime you wanted?" McGonagall kept up the verbal attack, doing her part in keeping Lockhart off balance.

_You're right, _Harry realized, _He's not used to denying things that make him look good. Which is probably because he's been doing the opposite for so long. Looks like he's realizing how far he has to fall._

"But why should we deny you your chance?" Snape sneered, a sight that usually made Neville Longbottom mess up his potion spectacularly. "With all your prowess at defeating Dark creatures, surely something like this will be another feather in your cap."

Lockhart was looking completely different to how he was when he first came in. No longer was he bubbling with confidence, but weak-kneed and trembling. Harry could see why; all four teachers could be intimidating when they wanted to be, even easygoing ones like Sprout and Flitwick, and right now they were all directing that look at Lockhart, who clearly did not have the will to stand up to it.

"I'll clear your teaching schedule for the time being." McGonagall said crisply. "That should give you enough time to prepare, Gilderoy."

"After all, how can the education of students compare to you stopping a grave threat to them?"

Harry had never heard McGonagall speak with such sarcasm before, and suddenly realized he wasn't the only one listening in on the conversation. Several students seated nearby were silent as well, some doing a bad job of pretending not to look while others were staring outright.

"O-of course..." Lockhart mumbled, shuffling backwards. "I'll- I'll just... go get ready..."

That was when Harry saw Archer's meaning. _Parasitic... deeper... you mean he's been taking credit for other people's work? _He demanded. _But then what about those who actually did the deeds? Wouldn't they have said something?_

_It is very likely. As for the second part of your question, _Archer's tone was grim, _Magic has been used for a long time to conceal its own existence. It's not too much of a stretch to extend it out in a different way._

Harry blinked, then got up to go over to the Hufflepuff table to talk to Susan. Her aunt would be interested to know about Lockhart. His friend didn't mind passing on the message for him, and the letter was sent off by owl in short order. Afterwards, he went to his workshop to summon Dobby.

The elf appeared, morose. "Idea not work, Harry Potter."

"Guess it was too much to ask for." Harry mused. "Dobby, I need your help."

"What does Harry Potter need Dobby to do?" The elf instantly asked.

"I need to get the school Sorting Hat. And don't go off just yet."Harry added hastily, stopping the house elf from vanishing on him like before.

It took him five days to prepare for the theft, and during that time, Lockhart fled the castle, sending the school into a tizzy. The rumors spreading all over the school only increased when Madam Bones turned up with four Aurors, intending to take the man into custody. When they found out their target had fled, the Aurors rushed off in swift pursuit. Very few people weren't glad to see Lockhart finally out of the castle, and they were all students. Defense Against the Dark Arts was taken over by the other teachers in turns, and the period was spent reviewing spells that were on the exams. The ensuing scramble when the lazier students realized how much they had failed to learn gave Harry the distraction he needed.

Harry was mildly surprised that the plan went off without a hitch. Using an old brown robe he found in the Room, Harry had Transfigured a pretty good imitation of the Hat, which he then had Dobby switch out with the genuine article when Dumbledore wasn't in his office. He waited with the Map for a few hours, but nobody came to check, so he considered himself safe. He sent Dobby back with another idea; to hide clothes in something his owner would pass to him without realizing what he was doing, even a tiny sock would work in that situation.

When he put the Hat on, it talked to him in an amused tone. "There have been people who have tried to steal me before, but no student has ever succeeded until you."

_I'm not really stealing you, actually. _Harry replied.

"Hmm yes, you might not be stealing, but the act of taking me is illegal all the same."

_You want to discuss legal issues, or would you rather help me out here? _Harry was starting to get slightly irritated at the way the Hat was talking to him.

"Let's see... unfortunately, I don't know where the Chamber is, but... oh, you've actually found it? You go beyond my expectations, Harry Potter." The Hat sounded pleased. "Even if you didn't follow the way Salazar himself intended for his Heir to follow."

_I suppose that proves the Heir wasn't very good at covering his tracks, doesn't it? _Harry retorted.

The small voice in his ear chuckled. "How very true. So, you believe I can be of help? Certainly, I wouldn't mind."

Whatever reply Harry was going to make was forgotten when a burst of heat manifested itself right in front of him, sending him rolling back in alarm. He unfolded his bow and pulled back, ready to fire blind at the intruder, when the Hat told him to stop.

"It's just Fawkes." The Hat explained.

_You're quite jumpy, aren't you, Harry? _Archer said, but his tone betrayed his wariness.

Frowning, Harry pushed up the brim covering his eyes to see that red-gold bird slowly hovering in front of him, looking disapprovingly at the Hat on his head. He cursed in his head, but surprisingly, the phoenix didn't make any further movements.

"What are you here for?" He asked it, and received a chirp in reply.

"I believe Fawkes came to look for me. Clearly your imitation was not enough to fool a magical bird like it." The Hat replied.

_I can see that. _"So? Are you going to take the Hat back?"

"That would be its original intention," This time, the voice seemed to come from above his head rather than in his ear. "But it seems you have a new ally that's willing to help."

"Help?"

"Salazar's beast is a threat to all who remain at Hogwarts. While it might have been meant to defend its inhabitants, it is best if it was put down as it should be."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Can't argue with that. Let's go then. But I'll be bringing this in case we need it." He finally retrieved the diary from its storage place and tucked it into a small bag which he carried by the strap. Fawkes hissed at it, but didn't do anything further.

He made to leave through the usual exit, but Fawkes flew in front of him, floating in his way.

"Grab its tail feathers. It will take you there." The Hat instructed.

Harry did as he was told. "Useful way of traveling." He remarked.

A quick flash of flame, and Harry was suddenly standing in Myrtle's bathroom. Releasing Fawkes, he went over to the sink where the entrance was, idly casting a ward on the door with the Hat's instructions. He could tell that it was supplementing his abilities slightly, but to what extent he did not know. Finding the carved snake, Harry tried to speak Parseltongue, deciding to start with 'open' before he would try other passwords.

It took him a minute to get into the right mindset to speak it; he needed to be speaking to a snake, so he imagined himself doing so. When the sink reacted to his first attempt, Harry briefly thought about the arrogance of some wizards.

"Arrogant by the present standards, yes." The Hat pointed out as they witnessed the sink descend out of sight to reveal a wide pipe. "But back then, they were standing above those who did not have magic. The world has changed greatly."

_That it has. _Harry frowned at the pipe. _Is the Basilisk this small?_

"No, a Basilisk is much, much bigger than this."

Harry stared at the pipe for a moment longer, then hissed, _**"Wider."**_

The pipe responded by consuming more of the surrounding sinks, until it was large enough for five men to enter it simultaneously. It also released an intense stench that made Harry cover his nose in reflex. He quickly learned how to cast a Bubble-Head Charm from the Sorting Hat, and did so over himself.

"Fawkes, can you take me down there?" He asked the bird, who nodded.

Once again holding onto its tail feathers, Harry was taken down into the pipe, the Sorting Hat on his head, and holding a cursed diary with his other hand. Looking around, he realized that the pipe was a steep, twisting slide that led deep down below the foundations of Hogwarts, with several pipes branching off in all directions. After several seconds, Fawkes slowed down, and they emerged into a dark stone tunnel that was tall enough for him to stand in.

Harry took out his wand and murmured, "_Lumos._"

The surrounding stone was wet from the humidity, and Harry realized that he must be somewhere beneath the lake itself. The floor was littered with small animal bones; Harry recognized them as rat bones, all of which had foul-looking scum on them. Seeing that some of them were crushed, he realized that the crushed ones form a trail that led deeper into the tunnel. He Reinforced his ears to listen for anything that might be down here.

"Magecraft... so that is what I encountered when I Sorted you." The Hat muttered, then quickly continued, "I will of course not divulge this secret of yours, so don't worry."

"You better not." Harry growled. _It can't hear Archer._

"No, I can't hear this Archer you speak of." The Hat confirmed.

_That's a good thing then. Harry, focus on the job at hand now. _The spirit instructed.

He didn't hear anything apart from the sound of his own heartbeat and breathing, his feet crunching on the filthy stone beneath them, and Fawkes' slow flapping behind him. Then he saw it; Harry instantly extinguished the light and turned his eyes away. However, Fawkes flew ahead and let out a comforting trill.

"There's no danger."

Harry looked up at the Hat's words and lit his wand again, carefully approaching the gigantic form up ahead. Now that he was closer, he realized it was a gigantic snake skin, poisonous green in color, lying curled across the tunnel floor. By his estimate, the entire thing was at least twenty feet in length.

"Damn..." Harry breathed.

Momentarily dispelling the bubble of air around his head allowed Harry to smell the prana on it, but it was weak and faint, which mean the Basilisk shed this skin a long time ago. _How big could it be now?_

_Are you going to continue? _Archer wanted to know.

"Yeah, okay." Harry shook his head and moved past the skin.

The tunnel continued to bend and weave, almost serpentine in nature, but Harry never found any separate tunnels branching off from the one he was in. The whole place was silent apart from him and Fawkes, and the chilly atmosphere was starting to intimidate him slightly. Just as he was about to say something due to his nerves, he turned another bend and saw a solid wall ahead of him.

_Looks like the end of the line. _Harry gazed up at the two stone serpents on the wall, entwined together with huge glinting emeralds where their eyes should be. "Structural Analysis."

"Incredible. This Magecraft of yours is quite the useful ability." The Hat remarked, but Harry wasn't listening.

The hidden entrance before him was protected by the snake golems he was currently staring at. Any attempt to force his way in, and they would attack immediately, either crushing him in their coils, or injecting the poison stored in their fangs into his blood. Part of him was wondering if he could somehow grab those emeralds, because they looked like they would benefit his Jewel Magecraft greatly. The Hat muttered something he couldn't hear, but he ignored it.

Harry cleared his throat. _**"Open up."**_

The snakes untwined themselves, and slithered apart. The wall opened up as they separated from each other, each half sliding out of sight to reveal the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry looked around as he walked in with Fawkes right behind him, absently dismissing the Bubble-Head Charm as he did so. The stench wasn't as bad here, probably due to the air freshening charms around the place. Moving his wand around, Harry took in his surroundings.

The Chamber was very long, resembling a hall. There were great stone pillars adorned with carved serpents forming two rows stretching the length of the place, extending up to a ceiling so high that not even Harry's light could penetrate its shadows.

_Gloomy place... _Harry's eyes kept darting all over the place. _Is it me or did that snake just move?_

The echo of his footsteps sounded extremely loud, even to his Reinforced hearing. Every step brought him closer to the end of the hall, and the shadows cast by the pillars seemed to be following him, waiting to pounce the moment his guard fell.

Then finally, Harry reached the end of the chamber. He blinked at the sight of two enormous stone feet, and proceeded to follow them up, and up, and up... until he was forced to take off the Hat because it blocked his vision. The whole statue itself was nearly as tall as the Chamber it was in, but to Harry's eye, it wasn't very impressive; the giant face looked similar to that of a wizened monkey, with a long thin beard that extended all the way down to the ankles.

_Where could the Basilisk be? _Harry wondered, putting down the bag containing the diary. _And Slytherin sure has a large ego, to make such a big statue of himself..._

Harry ventured closer to the statue, but couldn't detect any secret entrances. Just as he was about to try searching a bit higher, he heard a soft whispering that made him whirl around.

The bag where the diary was stored was moving, shifting in shape. Slowly, the opening of the bag widened, and several pieces of paper began to pour out. As Harry tensed up, preparing himself for whatever was happening, he watched as the pages of the diary began to duplicate themselves, increasing in number as they spread across the floor like a spilled blob of liquid.

Backing up behind a pillar, Harry continued to observe this phenomenon. _I didn't know it could do that._

"Not much is known about Horcruxes because of the transgression against nature they are." The Hat explained in a whisper. "It would not be impossible for the soul to influence the physical form."

The spread stilled. Then slowly, it began to gather back in on itself, swirling around a center like a whirlpool. Harry's eyes widened as he saw feet being formed; the papers were assembling into the shape of a person, one that was dressed in wizarding robes. The last part of the body, the head, wasn't formed, but seemingly covered by a curving blank page, topped by the black covers of the diary. Even as Harry watched, the 'face' began to crease and sink inwards, while the diary cover started ripping into shreds, forming an actual, but colorless, face, and a false semblance of hair. The simulacrum shifted slightly, and the pages that made up its robes blossomed with ink, until Harry was looking at a white-skinned being dressed in black.

It turned to look at him with ink-drawn eyes, unnatural in existence and movement. Part of the paper that formed its mouth tore with a soft ripping sound, and it attempted to make some noise through the orifice. It eventually succeeded, though its voice sounded weak and wispy, without any actual lungs or vocal cords to generate the proper volume.

"Hello..." It whispered. "I am Tom Riddle."

* * *

(1) Technically, this meme occurred sometime in 2002, but meh, this is fanfiction. For all you know, those older boys were just making fun of the younger kids for believing in magic, and not referencing an obscure Internet meme.

This chapter took quite a while to write out mainly because my muse has been distracted. School has been dumping tests and assignments on me, and I'm channeling processing power to deal with them instead. Honestly, I'm losing steam on this as well... I have basic ideas of what I'd like to happen in the course of this story, but I'm not sure if I can actually follow it through to reach them.

Anyway, I'll just go and finish the rest of my work, so review please!


	23. Eleventh Curse

Harry stared at the paper being in front of him. _So much for thinking it couldn't do anything as long as I didn't write in it._

He was mentally kicking himself for his arrogance in bringing Riddle's Diary down into the Chamber. After weeks without a peep out of it, he thought it was harmless. Bringing it here with him was just in case he needed to consult it to get into the Chamber, or to ferret out where the secrets were hidden. He certainly wasn't expecting it to grow and transform itself into a figure made out of paper. Blinking, Harry realized that during its transformation, torches set high up on the pillars had lit up; it wasn't very bright, but he could at least see most things.

_Harry, be careful. _Archer warned, at the same time the Hat did.

He didn't need to be told that. Harry quietly extinguished and stowed away his wand, and assembled his bow, putting his other hand on the string, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. He had already been noticed, but that didn't mean he was going to just step right out in the open where it could target him. Glancing around, he realized that Fawkes was nowhere in sight; the bird had went somewhere. He was left alone with a paper being whose expressions were made by ink that moved on paper.

"Who are you?" The paper Tom Riddle enquired. "Come out, I won't hurt you." He beckoned with one white hand.

"A student of Tohsaka Rin." Harry replied after a short moment, but he didn't make any moves. _Yeah, right._

"Ah, Tohsaka Rin... odd name, Tohsaka..." Riddle murmured.

"What are you?" demanded Harry. _Doesn't seem like he's familiar with Japan._

The paper head seemed to be analyzing him, though it was hard to tell with eyes that were ink on paper. "A memory. Preserved in this diary for fifty years. I sensed that someone had reopened the Chamber, and came out to stop him."

Harry didn't give any sign of his disbelief. Tom Riddle was trying to portray himself as a hero, in the eyes of an apparently eager student, one who would steal his teacher's tomes and the school Sorting Hat to further himself. Given the lack of proper facial expressions and an emotionless voice that had very little variation in its tone, very few people would be able to see past the lie without prior knowledge.

"It wasn't me, I can tell you that." Harry pretended to defend himself. _Should I try to get him to talk and maybe divulge more about himself?_

_That would be a good idea, but be careful. _

"Be wary, child. Don't let him fool you." The Hat advised.

"But you did enter this place with your own abilities, did you not? You are a Parselmouth." Riddle concluded.

_Damn, if he could sense that he was in the Chamber, then it wouldn't be hard for him to sense that I spoke Parseltongue to open the entrance. _"So? I'm not the Heir of Slytherin."

"No, you are not." Riddle said soothingly. "But I can help you."

"Help me?" Harry didn't need to fake the suspicion in his tone, since he was already suspicious.

"I know who is the Heir of Slytherin. I caught him before."

"That was almost fifty years ago. You know nothing." Harry accused.

"It was Rubeus Hagrid. He is still at this school, is he not?" Riddle spoke patronizingly, clearly trying to convince the boy before him that he could be trusted.

"And how would you know that?" Harry wanted to know. "You were stuck in a diary for fifty years."

"Because I am a powerful wizard in my own right." There was clear pride in his words as he spoke. "I caught the Heir of Slytherin, and I know many things. Like your name, Harry Potter."

Harry instantly brought his bow up and drew the string back, aiming at the unmoving figure in front of him. Realizing that Tom somehow knew his name even when he had not written it once while pretending to be Tohsaka Rin was a great shock. It wasn't until he heard Archer telling him to calm down that he realized the Hat was talking to him as well.

"Someone else must have told him how you look like, Mr Potter." Its voice hissed in his ear.

Harry gritted his teeth. He remembered now who was the original holder of Riddle's Diary. _Of course the fangirl Ginny Weasley would have written about me and how I look. _"Uh huh, so you know my name. Big deal." He snarled.

"You aren't a normal child, are you, Harry? Few wizards use a bow. Or even know what one looks like."

"Shut it. You know nothing about me."

"But I do." If there had been any more substance to Tom's tone, he would have sounded earnestly honest. "Your parents were killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort when you were one, but when he tried to kill you, it didn't work. Instead, _he_ was the one defeated. And you became the Boy-Who-Lived."

_All of that would be known by Ginny Weasley, but there was one thing in there that I'm doubting. I'm starting to have a hunch... _"Oh really, then I'm sure you know who his Death Eaters were, don't you?"

"Death Eaters...?" Riddle looked almost confused. "No, that term is... unfamiliar to me."

Harry's arms were starting to shake, having to maintain the hold for this long. _Looks like he doesn't actually know what happened in the past fifty years like he claimed to. That means that this soul fragment is unconnected to the actual being from last year!_

"Guess you don't know everything after all."

"You caught me." Riddle sounded embarrassed. "But I really do know about the Heir of Slytherin. And I need your help to stop him."

"Why can't you do it yourself? You can already move, from what I see."

Riddle sighed. "I need magic to sustain myself. Even taking this form leaves me with hardly any magic to make the lightest of objects move."

Harry grinned inside. _Well, that is very helpful to know. Let's try a little push, shall we? _"Uh huh. And what do you actually want?"

The figure of paper stiffened. "What?"

"I can tell, there's something you want besides my magic, isn't there?" Harry wasn't lying in this case; he could somehow tell that Tom Riddle had for a moment worn an aura of greed. He suspected that it was because of his bow.

"...it is just a matter of simple curiosity, to be honest." Riddle spoke airily. "I simply wish to know... how did you survive the Dark Lord?"

_Ah, so that's his game. _Harry realized. _Figure out what he did wrong before and work to overcome it._

"So that is what he wishes to know." muttered the Hat at the same time. "What will you do now, Mr Potter?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me where the books are hidden in this Chamber." Harry countered Riddle's request with one of his own.

Riddle stared at him silently for a long while. "What makes you think that there are books here, Harry?"

"Chamber of Secret_sss_..." Harry drew out the 's'. "I don't believe a Basilisk is all there is in here."

An ink eyebrow shifted a fraction of an inch upwards. "So you know it is a Basilisk too."

"Not too hard, actually. My teacher figured it out before I did." Harry shrugged, and began to lower his bow, conserving his energy and pretending to show some trust towards the construct. "So, tell me where the books are, and I'll deal."

"How do I know you'll keep your end of the deal?" Riddle wanted to know.

_I won't. _"You don't. But face it, I don't believe I need your help. If I wanted to, I could find it without your help."_ Thank you, Structural Analysis._ Harry told the soul fragment, smirking. "But you need mine. And I have no _current_ obligation to give it."

He had the feeling he was being thoroughly scrutinized, the only clue a slight narrowing of those inked eyes. "You aren't as honorable as everyone thinks, are you, Harry Potter?" Riddle observed in a soft voice that Harry could barely hear.

"Not if it means getting stabbed in the back." He retorted.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The voice was calm, but Harry wasn't falling for the act.

"Excuse me if I don't believe that right away." _Or ever, _thought the young archer.

_You do know there are two choices available to him? _Archer asked.

Harry blinked, taking care not to do so in a way that would tip the paper construct off. _Two? One of them is that he agrees to the request. What's the other?_

_He drops the act and attacks you._ Archer told him bluntly.

"Are you talking to this Archer of yours? I can't hear him." The Hat inquires softly.

_Later, Hat. _Harry focused once more on Riddle. "So, what will it be?"

The papers on the false body fluttered, then stilled. "You clearly have me at a disadvantage. Fine, I will show you Slytherin's secrets in return for some of your magic."

Harry didn't need to look to know that the soul fragment was intending to make sure he didn't live to make use of that knowledge. His grip on his bow tightened slightly as he watched the construct walk towards the statue, its feet scraping across the floor, but not picking up any of the moisture or grime off it. It made him realize that perhaps destroying it wasn't as easy as it might look. He transformed the bow back to its compressed form; it wouldn't be useful unless he put a Noble Phantasm to it.

_**"Oh great Slytherin, share thy knowledge with me."**_ Riddle hissed at the feet of the statue.

"He's speaking Parseltongue." The Hat informed Harry, who filed that information away after memorizing the sibilant style of speech. "You're playing a dangerous game here, Mr Potter."

The walls on either side of the statue suddenly sank inwards and slid aside, revealing bookshelves packed with books, scrolls, and several items. From the surge of prana, Harry could tell that some of them were enchanted. His interest as a magus was definitely aroused.

But first he had a problem to deal with.

"There, this is the secret library of Salazar Slytherin. I trust it satisfies you?" Riddle turned to face Harry.

Harry advanced cautiously. "I suppose... So this is what you found after you caught the Heir of Slytherin?"

The two-dimensional mouth curved in a smile. "Yes."

Harry tried to imagine the original Tom Riddle catching Hagrid and finding this, and almost snorted out loud. Knowing how the giant man acted, the idea of that was impossible. Privately, he wondered what the diary meant when it offered to show him what happened last time. If he had taken it up on its offer then, would he believe it now? Harry blinked, returning his attention to Tom.

Those blank eyes were watching him. "I have kept my end. So will you keep yours, and tell me how you survived the Dark Lord?"

"Everybody says I did. I don't think so, though." Harry watched Riddle steadily.

"...that means..." Riddle was whispering to himself, thinking out loud. "Who would... of course, _Dumbledore_... very devious of you, old fool..."

Harry stealthily reached into his robes, for the small pouch he had been carrying around lately. Opening the mouth with his fingers, he carefully extracted the small gems inside. The use he had in mind for it wasn't what he originally intended, but then again, he hadn't been expecting a possessed diary to come to life either.

_This one hardly has any leak, and I spent seven days charging it. Should give quite the bang. _"How do you close it up again?" Harry asked casually.

"That's simple." Riddle turned his head to look at the bookshelves. _**"Close."**_

The walls slid back into place, hiding the existence of the bookshelves so cleanly as though they were never there. Harry smirked inside; he wasn't sure how big of a blast the gem might generate, and this would prevent the books from being touched by the flames.

"So, since you've done your part, I guess I should do mine." He shrugged nonchalantly. "How do I give you my magic?"

"Thank you for your help. It is simple, you just have to place your hand on mine and imagine yourself channeling power through it like you do with your wand." Riddle extended a papery hand.

"Wait, are you even solid?" Harry asked as he approached even closer.

He ignored the offered hand and poked the torso instead. He wasn't too surprised to see the black sheets sink slightly under the pressure his finger was exerting. When he pushed harder, they gave way to reveal a hollow interior.

"Please stop that. It uses up the magic I need to sustain myself."

"Okay, but can I say something?" Harry could feel one of the small jewels in the palm of his hand. _Hope this works..._

"What?"

"Just how stupid do you think I am, _Voldemort_?"

In an instant, he slipped the gem through the gap in the paper body made by his pushing, and leaped away with Reinforced legs. While Harry had yet to figure out how to trigger the explosive prana on command, he had discovered the usefulness of magical sympathy theory. His other hand held the other half of the gem that was currently inside Tom's fake body, and he sent a tendril of prana into it. It cracked, and its destruction activated the other one.

A large-sized fireball engulfed the Horcrux body from the inside out, hot enough that Harry could feel the heat from over fifteen meters away. He wasn't sure if Riddle could feel pain, but it was moving around wildly in the center of that conflagration. As he watched with keen eyes, the multiple pages making up its body separated and scattered over the floor, some of them nothing more than ashes, while others were only lightly scorched.

"_Be careful..._" Archer and the Hat both warned at the same time.

_I don't need you to tell me that._ With the burst of air the explosion caused, his nose could pick up the scent that had been bothering him ever since the start of the year, and it hadn't diminished in the slightest. That meant that Riddle was still a threat. _I have to break the magic somehow... Archer, do you have anything that might work?_

_I do, but it requires you to get in very close._

_That shouldn't be a problem. He's not very fast. _Harry's eyes narrowed when he saw the pages coming together again, those with burned portions reversing the damage even as he watched. _Damn..._

Once again, the papers formed into the shape of a body, but this time with several smoldering holes and smoke emitting from all over. The mouth took a while to appear, but he could hear it saying something too soft even for his ears.

_I can't freeze up! _Harry let his instincts take over. _Normal magic isn't enough to harm it, but I can slow it down! _

In the span of a second, he had his bow open and drawn back. At this range, he couldn't miss unless he was purposely aiming to do so.

Numerous Bludgeoning Hexes hit the paper body, blasting through and scattering sheets across the chamber. But they came flying back to rejoin the original body, which continued to repair the damage Harry had dealt earlier. All his attacks only served to slow down the reconstruction, and not by very much.

_Archer! I need that thing now! _Harry's right hand was a blur as he drew and released repeatedly.

Then he realized he made a miscalculation; by focusing his shots on the body, he had given Riddle's mouth the time to reform, and it was speaking now. "So you know my true name. But it won't help you in the slightest." spoke Riddle, and Harry quickly altered his aim, but was too late.

_**"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."**_ The hiss seemed to echo around the room with the scattering of the paper head.

Harry noticed something moved near the top of his vision, and tilted his head back to look. Slytherin's mouth was opening up, wider and wider. He caught a glimpse of something stirring within the darkness, and with a thrill of horror, realized what it was.

Dropping his eyes to the ground, Harry leapt aside, taking cover behind a pillar. _Damn it to hell! _He cursed, trying to think of a way he could fight a giant snake that could kill with its gaze and venom. _Come on, come on... there's got to be something!_ He considered escaping the chamber, but realized that the narrow tunnel would give the advantage to the Basilisk. Here, in the Chamber with the various pillars, he could avoid getting cornered into meeting the serpent head on. He felt a tiny tremor ran through the ground, and knew that the snake had landed on the stone floor.

His Reinforced ears picked up the fluttering sound of the papers, and the voice that spoke over it. _**"Kill the boy."**_

Gritting his teeth, Harry tried his best not to panic as he leaned back against the stone pillar. _Hat, can you see around me? _

"Unfortunately, no. My awareness is connected to the wards of Hogwarts." The voice in his ear murmured.

"Damn!" Harry spat. _Okay, okay, calm down... rely on your ears... _Closing his eyes, he focused on where the slithering and hissing were coming from. _Okay, it's approaching, I can tell. Which way will it come from around the pillar?_

There was a wet scrape on his right, and Harry immediately dashed the other way, putting a hand on the pillar to guide himself. He felt something heavy move through the air where he just was, and knew he narrowly avoided getting bitten.

He heard a screech that sounded like it came from Fawkes, followed by the sound of the snake thrashing, smacking the pillars wildly with its body.

"Stay out of this, foolish bird!" Riddle's voice snarled.

There was the sound of rustling papers, and Fawkes screeched again, except this time it sounded partially strangled. Harry realized that Riddle was doing something, and guessed that

_**"Leave the bird to me. Find the boy and kill him." **_Harry heard, before Riddle switched back to normal English.

"Your death is inevitable, Potter." The Horcrux pronounced with sick satisfaction. "There is no way you can survive the Basilisk."

_You just let me know where you were! _Opening his eyes, Harry quickly confirmed the location of Riddle's fake body, and saw the gigantic body of a snake behind it, stretching out of his field of vision to his left. Part of it was in its dispersed form, currently corralling Fawkes near the ceiling. _Archer! Synchro Start!_

_Got it! _"_Trace On!_"

An ornate dagger with an iridescent blade shaped like a jagged bolt of lightning materialized in Harry's hand, and he lunged at Riddle. Rule Breaker, a weapon that would materialize the divinity of the witch of betrayal, Medea of Colchis. Capable of destroying any kind of enchantments, such as magical contracts or existences created by prana, it was the perfect weapon to end Riddle's faux life. But he did not expect the paper body to suddenly break apart and flow around him, avoiding his strike.

Harry gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to spin around after it, instead following through with the momentum and vaulting over the part of the Basilisk in his way. Cutting to the left, he took cover behind another pillar, breathing hard from nerves.

"What was that dagger?" Riddle's voice seemed to echo around the Chamber. "Wandless conjuration... you're quite the talented wizard, aren't you, Potter?"

_It might be too difficult for you to reach him while trying to avoid the Basilisk. _Archer pointed out, urgency in his tone. _Get rid of it first!_

_Tell me how the hell am I supposed to do that! _Harry yelled back, then his blood froze at the sound of a hiss. _Oh damn._

In his distracted state, he forgot to listen for the Basilisk, and it was nearly upon him. He instinctively shut his eyes and jumped straight up, his Reinforced legs propelling him several meters into the air, just as air rushed beneath him. He heard a sound like wet paper clapping together, and he imagined that the snake had just tried to bite him. But what goes up must come down, and Harry really didn't want to come down to a giant venomous snake.

_Hope this works! _Harry thought crazily, and kicked back against the side of the pillar behind him, feeling Archer's assistance in the motion. It sent him flying towards another, and he kicked off it at a different angle as gravity began to drag him down. _Got to get the timing right! And... _"HRGH!"

In the darkness of the room, even his enhanced vision was impaired, and the consequence of that led to Harry crashing painfully against the rough stone wall, bouncing off, then finally hitting the ground before rolling to an abrupt stop with his head cracking against the stone. He had felt the dagger's blade shatter with the first crash, and with it, the rest of the Traced construct. He wasn't seriously hurt due to the Reinforcement, but the heavy impacts left him slightly stunned. A slight burning along his hand told him he had scraped it in his fall, the high velocity managing to cut through his toughened skin.

However, Harry didn't waste any time lying there; his experiences sparring against a relentless Archer proved useful in ensuring he got up despite the small concussion. A grim expression on his face, he tried to focus past the pounding in his head, and on the current location of the serpent. Archer was saying something, but it was hard to hear what it was.

_Too bad the intimidation factor does not compare to that of facing a thousand year-old Basilisk. _He thought dully as he heard Riddle laughing from somewhere in the Chamber. _If only there was some way I could fire a Noble Phantasm at it without missing..._

"There is one way." The Hat suddenly spoke.

_HOW? _Harry thought as he darted around another pillar ahead of the pursuing beast, going over its midsection once again.

"Go where there is only one route it can come after you."

_WHERE? There's- That's it! _Suddenly, the idea of the tunnel being a deathtrap no longer seemed so.

_That's what I've been saying! _Archer shouted through Harry's headache. _Get there as soon as you can!_

"It is futile, Potter, even if you use magic to improve your physical body. My pet will eventually catch you, and then you shall die." Riddle mocked. "Pity, I could have used your magic. But I will settle for your death instead."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Harry growled.

Using the sound of its scales scraping against each other to predict the location of the head, Harry quickly dodged another attempt, and sprinted towards the entrance. As he ran, he activated the bow while Archer provided the blueprint.

"_Trace On!_" Harry and Archer spoke as one.

Hrunting, the Hound of the Red Plains. It was the sword Beowulf used to slay the mother of Grendel. As an arrow, it would hit its target without fail, even if it was deflected, dodged or blocked, as long as the shooter maintained his aim. While aiming wasn't possible to do head-on against a Basilisk without meeting its eyes, the situation Harry was hoping for would not require it.

The jagged blade appeared in Harry's hands, and its shiny black exterior began warping even further into an arrow as prana poured into it, reshaping its structure to suit his needs. He crossed the threshold of the Chamber, and continued running until he reached the bend in the tunnel. The sound of the Basilisk slithering let him know just how far away it was from him. Using the position of his feet as a marker, Harry closed his eyes tightly and turned one hundred and eighty degrees, lifting up the bow and drawing it as he did so. Archer warned him about the sonic boom Hrunting would create, and he performed a full Reinforcement of his body.

His heartbeat sounded extremely loud in his own ears, and he almost had trouble hearing the stones being crushed and the soft hiss made through the mouth.

"It's useless to flee, Potter!" shouted Riddle from somewhere back in the Chamber.

"Go to hell. You, and your damn snake." Harry growled, and released the arrow.

There was a loud boom, and Harry was flung back against the wall of the tunnel by a heavy, pressing force. It took him several seconds to recover, and when he did, he thought he had gone deaf; his ears were ringing very loudly, and he could hardly hear a thing.

_What the hell? _He groaned. _Was a sonic boom supposed to be like that? _Harry recalled the location, and winced in spite of himself. _Oh yeah... enclosed area... I'm lucky the place didn't cave in... _

Like that time against Quirrellmort, the physical shock made it hard for him to connect to Archer. It didn't seem like his eardrums ruptured, when he checked by touching his ears, but he felt so nauseous it was difficult not to throw up. Still, Harry continued, to struggle, pulling his arms under his body to push himself up. Archer's circuits were currently overheated, so he fell back on the single one he created to support his body. The Sorting Hat had been blown off his head by the sonic boom, and he looked around for it. He found it lying near his legs, and managed to snag it with a weak hand. Placing it back on his head, Harry finally looked up at the spasming Basilisk.

And met a large yellow eye.

Agony surged through his body as foreign prana poured through it, making the muscles seize up. Screaming, Harry curled in on himself; it was affecting his brain, making all his pain receptors fire. Then something changed; the prana suddenly flowed down the activated circuit, mixing with his own. Harry was only barely aware of it as the foreign energy suddenly reversed in flow, pouring into and invading a new nerve. It was altering that nerve, but compared to the time he made his own magic circuit, this felt much worse. Clutching his face, Harry whimpered. The cool metal of his bow eased the pain a little.

Thankfully, this pain was shorter compared to that time. Feeling the awful sensation vanish, Harry lay on his side, panting and gasping. Tentatively, he activated the new magic circuit, and winced; it was linked to his left eye.

_...ry! Harry, answer me! Can you hear me? _Archer was shouting in his head, making the headache he already had worse. _Say something!_

_I'm alright, Archer... _Thinking seemed hard for him. _But that Basilisk did something to me... I got a new magic circuit... in my left eye..._

"You might want to get up, child. Riddle is approaching." The Hat warned.

Harry paused, and listened. He could make out the sound of rustling paper drawing closer, which meant the Hat was right. _Wait, I thought you couldn't sense your surroundings?_

"I was listening through your ears while you weren't paying attention to them. Do hurry."

"I have no idea what magic you just used to kill my Basilisk, but you're clearly dying. A Basilisk gaze never fails to kill, just like its venom... unless of course, you are its master." Riddle's voice whispered above him. There was a weak warble from Fawkes; it sounded as though Riddle was holding the phoenix prisoner.

_Or if you satisfy a different set of conditions... _Harry realized. _Like having a magic circuit..._

"I'm going to stand here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Hidden underneath the Sorting Hat, Harry's hands clenched, one empty, the other one still holding onto the bow. _Just you wait, Riddle... I'll get you... Archer?_

_It'll be a while before you can use my circuits. _The spirit reported.

"If you need a weapon, I can provide one." The Hat offered.

Harry was interested in spite of himself. _What weapon?_

Riddle continued to talk, while the Hat subtly contracted upon itself. "So ends the famous Harry Potter, felled by his hubris in the Chamber of Secrets, for seeking things beyond his power, defeated by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. Not even the Sorting Hat, nor Dumbledore's phoenix were able to save you."

_Keep talking... _Harry felt the handle of a blade slide into his hand, and he gripped it.

"You'll be back with your parents soon, Harry..." Riddle seemed to be purring as he spoke. "You've had twelve years of borrowed time... but Lord Voldemort-"

"Is getting his ass kicked again!" Harry finished, coming up off the floor in one smooth motion.

In an instant, he saw Riddle's fake body standing very close in front of him. One arm had turned into some sort of misshapen bundle, with Fawkes enclosed within; it seemed to be draining the bird somehow. Harry saw it all, and moved automatically.

A silver blade slid out from inside the hat, and in one continuous motion, Harry sliced through the arm holding Fawkes. With the link broken, the pages holding the phoenix fell away, and it took flight away from Riddle. Following through, Harry spun and beheaded the paper body, sending the shocked expression of Riddle flying.

Breathing heavily, Harry lowered the sword, and took a good look at it. It was a gleaming silver, and its handle bore rubies the size of eggs in its pommel and crossguard. There was something engraved on the blade near the hilt, but it was too dark for him to make out what it was.

_It's not over yet! _Archer warned urgently.

Harry blinked, and saw the separated head coming back.

Its lips were moving as it floated back towards its body. "How did you survive? No one should be able to meet the Basilisk's eyes but me!"

"Hell if I know." Harry panted.

"But this changes nothing. Nothing you can do will harm me." Riddle sneered, the papers of its body beginning to rejoin with the head. "You will die here, and Lord Voldemort will rise again."

Harry frowned, then noticed something. While Riddle's body had recovered from any damage he dealt before, there were some burnt spots on the face and torso that weren't healing, but leaking ink instead. His eyes widened when he recalled just how they came about, and he glanced down at his blood-covered hands. When he had swung the blade, some of his blood went flying with the force of his swing, and landed on the body of Riddle in those spots. Realizing that, Harry recalled how Quirrellmort had died under his touch, and came to the conclusion that somehow, his blood was anathema to Voldemort's existence.

Grinning, he used one bloody hand to swipe the length of the sword, leaving streaks of red on both sides of the blade. "Nothing I can do, huh?"

"It is just you and me, Harry Potter..." Riddle whispered harshly.

Harry cocked his head. "I beg to differ."

Before Riddle could reply, Harry struck. The sword plunged through Riddle's midsection, causing the construct to freeze while the wound smoked and bled ink. A strangled scream escaped through its hole of a mouth, just as Harry slid the length of the bow beneath the handle of the sword and yanked the sword upwards, ripping the upper body into two. The papers making it up began to fall apart, and the scream faded off until only soft echoes remained. Spotting one half of the black cover that made up the original diary on the floor with ink oozing out from it, Harry reversed the sword, and stabbed it down into the center of the book. Black liquid spurted for a moment, then the flow ceased.

Harry panted heavily, finally feeling the exhaustion. "It was _never_ just you and me. Right, Archer?"

_Right, Harry. _Archer replied, wearing a small, proud smile.

The green-eyed boy turned to look at the ragged brown hat on the floor next to him. "And thanks to you too, Hat."

The rip opened and replied, "You're welcome, Mr Potter."

Harry let his body crumple down onto the wet floor, resting one elbow on a raised knee so he could transform the bow back into its watch form. He could still see the Basilisk's only undamaged eye, but it no longer affected him, its magic gone with the beast's life. From the looks of things, Hrunting had went through its other eye, and at the speed it was released, it tore a gaping big hole right through that side of its head and out the back out it, splattering blood everywhere. Even more continued to leak from the remains, and it was already spreading towards him, threatening to stain everything.

Harry idly picked the Sorting Hat off the ground and placed it on his head. He also extracted the sword and the impaled book from the ground, laying the weapon across his lap. Fawkes descended down in front of him, flapping its wings to remain airborne. It crooned a tune that made Harry feel slightly better, though his injuries still pained him. After a while, the phoenix landed on his other leg and cried over the wounds on his arms, healing them with the magical power of its tears.

_Hat, any idea what happened to my eyes? _He asked, petting the bird with his other hand.

"It appears that your Parseltongue abilities has allowed you to absorb the magic in the gaze of the Basilisk. However, I have no idea of what effects it has on you."

_It's possible that you might have developed a type of Mystic Eyes. _Archer added.

Harry covered his left eye with his right hand. _You don't say... seriously, what are the chances of something like this happening?_

"Very rare, I'm sure. As far as I know, only the master of a Basilisk can survive its gaze. But they never revealed the secret behind their ability to do so."

_Once again, your magic defies the usual magecraft I know... _Archer sighed. _Mystic Eyes aren't supposed to be _made... _you're supposed to be born with them._

_How the hell would I know? Anyway... _Harry shifted slightly, prompting Fawkes to take flight. Getting up, he thought, _Time to get the spoils... Say, Hat, do you mind holding the items for me?_

"I suppose I can, but you know that the Headmaster will want to keep them, don't you?"

"Then just keep it a secret until I can find a way to safely store the books where he can't get it." Harry spoke out loud as he walked past the corpse of the Basilisk, his feet squelching in its blood.

Back in the Chamber, he saw a large hole through Slytherin's genital regions, from where Hrunting had landed after blowing through the Basilisk. Snorting at the image, Harry continued onwards until he reached the feet of the statue. It took him a while to recall the passphrase Riddle had used, and another to get in the mindset for Parseltongue.

_**"Oh great Slytherin, share thy knowledge with me."**_

As before, the walls slid away to reveal the various tomes and scrolls.

"I don't think I can hold all this, Mr Potter." The Hat murmured to him.

"Well, damn." Harry sighed. "Let's see if there's anything on Parseltongue then..."

It would have been hard to judge the time if not for his watch, but Harry still spent over an hour trying to figure out what each book held, with the Sorting Hat giving him assistance in translating them from the old Scottish they were written in. Harry was disappointed that the Hat couldn't fill his head with information the same way it drew it out, because it meant he would have to learn the language manually in order to understand the secrets recorded.

Eventually, he managed to find one journal that seemed to deal mainly with the topic of Parseltongue, and decided to take it with him. Stowing it inside the Hat's secret space and closing the bookshelves, Harry turned to leave the Chamber. Fawkes came flying down from where it had perched on a carving on a pillar, and rode on his shoulder, causing the Hat to tip to the side.

"Well, this whole trip was a lot more trouble than I expected..." Harry muttered.

_It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't brought the diary down with you. _Archer pointed out.

Harry pretended not to hear, and petted Fawkes instead.

Pausing at the Basilisk's head, Harry decided to take a trophy from the body. The eye had lost its active magic, so he chose that to take. It was a bit disgusting to dig his hands into the socket and extract the giant eyeball, but after being drenched in its blood and pieces of its flesh, it didn't really seem to matter anymore. The Hat provided him with a conjuration spell to create a cloth bag to carry it in, and a preservation charm to cast over the rest of the remains. According to the Hat, a Basilisk was worth quite a lot of money because of its rarity, and what could be done with the parts.

The trek back to the pipe seemed much longer than before, but eventually Harry reached it. At first he was stumped at how he was going to get up the smooth pipe, but then he remembered how he had gotten down in the first place. Holding on to Fawkes's tail feathers, he let the phoenix carry him back up the pipe. Harry barely noticed anything during the trip up; to him, it seemed like one moment he was gripping onto Fawkes, the next he was standing in Myrtle's bathroom. Turning around at the sound of shifting stone, he saw the sinks slide back into place, hiding the entrance once more.

"What happened to you?" Looking over his shoulder to see who had spoken, Harry saw Myrtle goggling at him.

"I avenged your death." He said shortly.

"...really?" She asked, a silver wave washing over her translucent body, as though she was blushing. "No one's ever done that for me before."

"Hn." Harry grunted. "Anyway, I'm off. Bye."

_Looks like she has a crush on you, Harry. _Archer teased.

_Shut up, Archer._

Exiting the bathroom, Harry glanced out the window. From the looks of the sky, it was already evening, which mean the students would be at the Great Hall for dinner. He had went into the Chamber in the late afternoon, and spent over two hours there, coming out covered in blood and carrying a longsword.

_If I wasn't feeling so drained, I would probably ask myself if it was a good idea. But right now... I can't find it in myself to care. _Harry thought to himself as he walked in the direction of the Great Hall, with Fawkes leading him. He noticed some of the people in the paintings spot him and scream before running off, but continued on without hurrying. _I must look quite a sight; soaked in blood, carrying a sword, and holding a bag that looks like it has a severed head inside._

"It could be worse." The Hat spoke out loud instead of in his ear.

"How so?" Harry croaked.

"You could be dead."

"Gee, thanks for the optimistic viewpoint." Harry deadpanned.

_The hat does have a point, you know. _Archer added. _By the way, let me take a better look at the sword you're holding._

Harry obediently lifted up the blade so Archer could see through his eyes. The engraved part he noticed earlier was there, but this time it was too soaked in blood for him to see what it was.

_Godric Gryffindor, _supplied Archer. _That's what's engraved there. This was the sword of one of the Hogwarts Founders. And it's made of... goblin steel. Hmm, very interesting properties it has..._

"Why do you have Gryffindor's sword?" Harry asked the Hat.

"That isn't my secret to tell, Mr Potter." It replied. "You were given it because you were in grave danger."

"Do you want it back?"

"It will return to me when the occasion calls for it." was the cryptic reply the Hat gave.

Harry shrugged. "Whatever you say."

When Fawkes flapped into the Great Hall, it emitted a musical trill that made everyone pause what they were doing and turn to look. The sight of Harry Potter walking in with blood all over him and the Sorting Hat on his head, while carrying a bloody sword in one hand and a bloodstained bag in the other, would become a oft-repeated tale in Hogwarts history. Then someone screamed and pandemonium broke loose.

"HARRY!" Hermione's scream was audible even over the panic in the hall, and he could see his friends jumping up from their seats to approach him.

There was a loud cannon blast, and everyone quieted to look at the origin; Dumbledore was standing up in his spot at the center of the teachers' table, looking unusually grave. A brief smile crossed his face when Fawkes flew over to him and landed on his shoulder, singing softly all the while. But it soon turned serious again, as his attention returned to the boy approaching down the center aisle. The muttering began to pick up as Harry continued to approach the table.

To Harry, it seemed like everyone in the school was there; the student tables were crowded, and so was the teachers' table. Professor McGonagall was pale and clutching her chest, taking deep breaths. Sprout looked like she would keel over. Professor Flitwick had jumped up in his chair and was gripping his wand tightly. And Snape actually looked concerned, though Harry saw an impassive expression when he looked a second time. The teachers for the supplementary subjects all displayed varying levels of shock, none more so than Madam Pomfrey, who looked as though she had been Petrified herself. Even Filch was standing in a shadowy corner, looking horrified at the trail of blood Harry was leaving behind him. All of them seemed at a loss for words.

Stopping just before the podium, Harry lowered the bag to the ground and opened it up. Gripping the optic nerve with his free hand, he wound it around his wrist a few times so it wouldn't slip out of his grip. Then he pulled it out to show everyone in the hall the eyeball, eliciting a fresh waves of screams from the more timid students.

Meeting Dumbledore's steady gaze, Harry shook the giant eye slightly. "I killed the damn Basilisk." He announced to the hall, who quieted to hear what he said.

Seeing the old wizard open his mouth as the students repeated his words amongst themselves, Harry bent back down to put the eyeball back into its bag, before straightening up and pulling the diary off where it had been impaled upon the sword all this while. He held it up even higher than he did with the eyeball, and spoke before Dumbledore could.

"And this was the goddamn Heir of Slytherin who kidnapped me." He finished.

_Making quite the statement, aren't we? _Archer commented, even as the hall exploded into noise for the third time.

* * *

Harry knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office, freshly washed and dressed in clean clothes.

"Enter, Harry." Dumbledore's voice invited him in.

Opening it, he saw the four Heads of Houses standing around a seated Dumbledore, who indicated for him to sit in the chair. All five adults wore serious looks on their faces. On Dumbledore's desk were the Hat, Gryffindor's sword, the ratty remains of the diary, and the Basilisk eye, floating in a container of preservative. Harry noticed the fake Hat still resting on its shelf, near Fawkes, who was resting on a perch.

After he had announced to the student body that he not only killed a Basilisk, but the Heir of Slytherin who had terrorized the whole school for the past year, it created a havoc that even the teachers were hard pressed to control. In the end, Dumbledore had Madam Pomfrey take Harry away to clean off the blood, after taking the Sorting Hat and Sword from him. It was a pleasure to wash off all the blood and accumulated gore, and Harry almost felt like a new man after dressing in clean robes while his dirty ones were taken away to be disposed of. She wanted to keep him for observation, even when he told her that he was largely unhurt and showed her the proof. However, he still had an explanation to give, which was why he was here.

"Harry-" Dumbledore began, only to have the boy he was addressing hold up a hand to stop him.

"Sorry, can I drink this Pepper-Up first?" He held up a vial of potion.

Dumbledore inclined his head, and Harry popped off the cork and gulped down the spicy potion. Energy washed through his veins, and he felt much better afterwards. Corking the vial again, Harry nodded to signify his readiness.

"Please tell me what happened," requested Dumbledore.

And so Harry began to talk. Taking care to shatter any Legilimency probes, he told the fake story he came up with: He was researching more into the Chamber of Secrets in Myrtle's bathroom when he happened across a black diary with the name T.M. Riddle on it. When he opened it, it suddenly spat out a storm of paper, which engulfed him and knocked him unconscious.

Harry paused at that point. "Uhm, can I have a drink of water?"

McGonagall conjured up a glass and handed it to him. Nodding his thanks, Harry took it from her. As he did, he glanced at Fawkes, who eyed him beadily, but didn't do anything, but just went to sleep.

_So it won't out me. That's good. _Harry was relieved by that fact, and continued on with his tale.

He had woken to find himself in the Chamber of Secrets, having been captured by the spirit of Tom Marvolo Riddle, in a body of paper. Harry made sure to elaborate what he meant by that, until Dumbledore indicated for him to continue his tale. He went on to explain how Riddle had interrogated him, intent on finding out how he had survived the Killing Curse, and ended up revealing his identity as Voldemort.

The mention of the name made the other four teachers flinch, but Dumbledore remained unmoved, although his eyes flickered towards the diary cover.

Riddle had tried to tempt Harry into aiding his revival, only to fail. They then started arguing, with Harry taunting Riddle, when Fawkes came bearing the Sorting Hat. In response, Riddle summoned the Basilisk from the statue of Slytherin. After a blur of events, the Hat provided the sword (the teachers glanced at the cleaned blade, all having different thoughts about the weapon), which Harry used to hold off the snake until he brought down part of a wall on top of the head with a blasting curse, ending the life of the Basilisk and covering him with the blood that sprayed out. After that, he used the sword to cut Riddle down, rescuing Fawkes, who had been caught in the spirit's clutches.

The magical bird let out a soft trill, and Harry realized that Fawkes was going along with his story because it owed him a debt for helping it back in the Chamber. _So that's why... lucky me, I guess. _He absently broke yet another attempt at Legilimency from Snape. By now it was almost automatic for him, but it was a reminder that he had yet to look up the laws pertaining to its use.

"Anyway, after I was sure that Riddle was dead, I decided that I needed some proof of what happened. I considered taking a fang, but given the potency of Basilisk venom, I decided it was safer not to. Since the eye no longer killed, I decided to take that instead." Harry indicated the orb floating in the jar with a tilt of his head.

Snape snorted. "Arrogant brat..."

_He's angry that he can't read your mind, I believe. _Archer said calmly.

_Yeah, _replied Harry, _I can tell as well. _"Some people just won't believe anything without proof."

Dumbledore interrupted before Snape could retort. "Enough of that. Please go on, Harry."

"After I got the eye and conjured a bag to carry it-"

"I didn't know you could perform conjuration, Mr Potter." McGonagall interrupted, frowning.

"I had a teacher." Harry pointed at the Sorting Hat. "Of course, if you like, I can demonstrate for you right now?"

"Perhaps later, Minerva." Dumbledore shook his head, and the Deputy Headmistress nodded. "Go on."

"I followed Fawkes down this long tunnel. The place was damp, so I think it must have been under the lake. Also, there were a lot of animal skeletons around, mainly rats. And some of the Basilisk's shed skin." Harry paused to take another drink of water. "At the end, there was this large pipe, which Fawkes carried me up." He nodded to the bird. "We came out in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and the entrance closed shut behind us. Seeing it was evening and already dinnertime, I thought I'd find someone in the Great Hall, which was why I went there."

There was a short period of silence as the teachers tried to take in what Harry had told them. Harry could see McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick were trying to decide what to ask, while Snape just sneered at him. As always, Dumbledore was impossible to read, but at least he wasn't doing his twinkling eye trick. That look always annoyed Harry. Eventually, they began talking amongst themselves, leaving Harry to his own devices.

Breaking yet another probe shot his way by Snape (_Doesn't he get tired of this? _Harry sighed), Harry looked at the items on the desk in front of him. Now that the sword had been cleaned, he could clearly see Gryffindor's name on it. Some of the Basilisk blood seemed to have soaked into the Sorting Hat, its magical nature overcoming the protections on the artifact. The new look made it seem like the brown patches were the stains instead of the original color.

"Nice look, Hat." Harry murmured.

The rip opened, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Thanks. The smell might be an issue though."

He knew it was referring to the smell of blood, but it reminded him of the thing next to it. Harry could still smell a bit of the prana smell he associated with Horcruxes coming from the diary cover, but it was greatly diminished compared to before; the smell was more residual than actual magic. He rubbed his nose; in the course of the events within the Chamber, he hadn't realized that his ability to smell prana had been hampered by the stench of the place.

The eyeball floated around in the jar, and when Harry looked at it, he saw its slit eye looking straight at him. His body flinched with a jolt of phantom pain as the memory of making eye contact with it the first time came up in his mind, making him look away.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore finally spoke, a smile appearing on his face, "I believe I speak for everyone here (Snape grimaced again) when I say you have done Hogwarts a great service."

Harry nodded. He didn't really care about that at the moment.

"You will receive a Special Award for Services to the School, and... let me see... yes, two hundred points for Gryffindor."

"Can I forgo the award and points and have that instead?" Harry asked impulsively, pointing at the Basilisk eye.

McGonagall's eyebrows snapped together. "What do you intend to do with it?"

"Keep it as a reminder not to let my guard down next time." Harry came up with on the spot. He could sense Archer's curiosity regarding his reason as well.

"Typical Gryffindor." Snape snorted.

"Trying to work around that, here." Harry returned. _I seem to be much more flippant..._

_You might still be in a bit of a shock, I think. _Archer guessed.

_Well, whatever..._

"Enough, Severus, Minerva." Dumbledore stopped the two teachers from bickering. "But you know, Harry, only a true Gryffindor could have pulled this out of the Sorting Hat." Dumbledore tapped the engraved name of Godric Gryffindor on the sword.

Harry shook his head. "The Hat says otherwise, Professor. It is given to those who happen to be in grave danger so they can defend themselves." He looked at the teachers' taken aback expressions with a dull look of his own. "I'm sure it's just coincidental that Gryffindors tend to fall in that category." _So much for trying to sound all wise, Dumbledore..._

McGonagall had the air of an offended cat, while the other three found Harry's dig at his own House a bit amusing, even Snape, who smirked momentarily. Dumbledore seemed a bit annoyed to have his opinion proven wrong, but with the Hat being the one who released the sword, there was no way he could justify his own conclusion. Especially since the part of the Hat that made up its mouth suddenly twisted up in its own smirk.

"Yes... yes, of course... but back to what we were talking about before." Dumbledore changed the subject. "But why would you want the eye?"

"Like I said before, it's a reminder. I'm not going to mash it up for potions ingredients, that's for sure." Harry glanced towards Snape as he said this.

"You-" Snape started, only for Flitwick to interrupt.

"I see no harm in letting Mr Potter have it, Albus." Flitwick winked at Harry. "There's a reason I keep and display my dueling trophies even though some of them aren't for the champion's position. Pomona, Minerva?"

"I have no problem with it myself." Sprout admitted. "The law states that the one who kills a magical creature holds the right to it. So it belongs to him."

_Okay, got to go look up that law... _Harry thought.

McGonagall stared hard at Harry . "Are you sure it will only serve as an ornament, Mr Potter?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "I'm not a Potions Master anyway. And I'm sure as hell not going to try and replicate its effects." _Besides, I've already gotten something out of it... just need to figure out what._

"Then I have no arguments either. Albus?" The Scottish witch spared Snape the briefest of glances before focusing on her superior.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded to Harry. "Since the majority has decided, you may keep the eye. But I think it would be better if-"

"Okay, great. This means much more to me than an award in the trophy room and some points anyway." Harry leaned forward and grabbed the large jar off the desk with both hands. _As for the Parselmouth journal... I suppose I'll have to pass on it for now. No way I'll be able to smuggle it out like this._

Harry took out his wand and Transfigured a handle on the top of the jar so he could carry it in one hand. As he did so, he fired off a silent _Finite_ at the fake Sorting Hat over the teachers' shoulders, returning it to its original existence as a robe. Fawkes flapped up to the shelf and vanished with the robe in a burst of fire before anyone thought to look. He was sure Dumbledore knew at least, but the evidence was gone now.

"Well, if there's nothing else?" Tucking his wand away, Harry looked up at the teachers.

"You may go, Mr Potter." McGonagall told him.

Nodding, Harry stood up and left the office. On the way down the stairs, he realized that he just missed a chance to ask Dumbledore about the reason why Voldemort was after him. Considering Halloween and last year, this was the third time he tangled against an incarnation of Voldemort. It was a legitimate reason to ask.

_Next time I see him, then. _Harry decided, walking past the gargoyle that was blocking the entrance.

_What will you do if he dodges it like he did last year? _Archer asked him.

_I have no idea right now... but if it happens... _Harry left it hanging.

Archer didn't say anything further, and Harry returned to Gryffindor tower. He could hear the rumors being spread by the portraits, and some of the students still around were whispering to each other as they stared at him, their attention fixed on the floating eyeball in the jar. At the junction that led to the Gryffindor common room, he found Luna waiting for him.

"Was it worth putting yourself in danger?" The blonde was staring at the jar's contents, but Harry knew she was asking about something else entirely.

He glanced at the picture frame nearby. While he couldn't see the subject from this angle, its presence was already a sign to be careful. "Actually, yeah."

"Do you mind giving details?"

Harry checked his watch. "Tomorrow at ten, in the Student Council office. Is that okay with you?"

"It is. See you tomorrow then." Luna flounced off without a farewell.

Harry sighed and went his own way. _I don't think I'll ever get used to her way of acting..._

The Fat Lady caught sight of him as he stopped in front of her. "Is it true? Did you-" She gasped. "Is _that-?_"

"Yeah, now could you let me in?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" The Fat Lady was flustered. "The password?"

"Dragonbite."

The portrait swung open, and Harry went through. He emerged into a silent common room, and saw everyone staring at him. Then somebody started to clap, and it spread around the place, until he had people coming up to him slapping him on the back, telling him how amazing he was, wanting to get a closer look at the Basilisk eye. It took several minutes before they finally let up on him, and asked to know what happened. But by then he was at the end of his patience.

Planting the jar on the table heavily to shock them all quiet with the noise, Harry looked around the room at all the expectant faces before he began to speak. "I was kidnapped, forced to fight for my goddamn life, and you think it's all about glory? Grow up. This," He slapped the top of the jar. "Is not a trophy. This is a reminder that I was careless to let myself get kidnapped!" He glared at the boys and girls standing around him, all of whom refused to meet his eyes.

"Now, I'm tired and hungry," As if to support Harry's words, his stomach let out an audible growl. "And I don't feel like telling the details right now. You want to know, you wait for the Herald."

Casting one last dirty look around the room, he picked up the jar and headed up to his dorm, the people in his way parting before him. Entering his room, he packed the jar into his trunk, taking care that it wouldn't get knocked around when he shifted the trunk later. Just as he added several locking charms he had picked up from his time with the Flamels, Hermione, Neville and Ron came in.

"Need anything?" Harry asked shortly.

"Harry..." Hermione was at the front of the group. "Are you okay...? You came in covered in all that blood..."

Harry shrugged as he sat on the bed with a few Cauldron Cakes. "The Basilisk's, not mine. And I'm just tired."

"Did you really kill the Basilisk?" Ron blurted out.

Harry gave the redhead a fierce glare that made him step backwards. "No, it's killed me and now I'm a ghost." He replied sarcastically.

"Geez, no need to bite my head off..." Ron muttered, looking away.

"Like I said downstairs, I had a life-threatening experience earlier today. Pardon me if I don't feel very courteous." Ripping open the packaging and biting into a cake, Harry turned his attention back to Hermione. "Anything else?"

"Do, do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Not right now. What I do want, however," Harry polished off the first cake and started on the second. "Is to eat these Cauldron Cakes, and go to sleep."

"You do that, Harry." Neville spoke up before the other two could. "We'll just leave you alone, alright?"

He nodded. "Cheers, Neville."

He could hear Hermione arguing with Neville on the way down, but the boy was stubborn enough to put his foot down. When his Reinforced ears couldn't pick anyone coming up, Harry decided it was safe to act.

"Dobby."

The crack that accompanied the elf's appearance sounded. "Harry Potter calls Dobby! Dobby... has come!"

Harry stared at the house elf. Not because of the weird way he announced his arrival, but because of the additional clothes he was wearing. While Dobby still had his pillowcase tunic, his hands were in black leather gloves that were a few sizes too big for them, and his feet were covered by thin ankle socks that, while small, were still quite big for him.

_That reminded me of those hero cartoons I used to watch when I was younger... _Archer mused.

After a few moments, Harry's shocked stare turned into a wide grin. "It worked then?"

The elf returned a grin of his own. "Yes! Dobby is free! No more punishing Dobby!"

"Good for you. I dealt with the danger too. The Basilisk is gone."

Dobby's eyes widened. "Harry Potter truly is a powerful wizard..."

"I had help. Anyway, how did you do it?"

He couldn't help but laugh when Dobby told him he had stuffed the socks the elf was currently wearing into a pair of gloves that Lucius Malfoy used and added a bit of water. The man had inserted his hands, and immediately reacted to the wet sensation by tossing them away. Dobby had caught them, and thus won his freedom.

"Makes me wish I had pictures..." Harry said to himself. "So? What are you going to do now?" He asked Dobby.

The elf paused, looking uncertain. "Dobby does not know..."

"You guys need magic to function, right? Won't you eventually run out if you don't have a family?"

Dobby nodded. "Yes, but Dobby is wanting to enjoy freedom."

"Freedom even if you'll die eventually..."

_It's his choice, Harry. _Archer told him.

Harry finally nodded. "Well, all I can do is to wish you good luck. You've helped me out quite a bit, even if they aren't always... helpful." He finished awkwardly, then held out his hand. "In some way, I'm glad I met you."

Instead of taking it, Dobby lunged at Harry and threw his arms around Harry's waist. Harry almost reacted by hitting the house elf, but his exhausted state didn't allow him to. By the time he realized it, he was already in a hug.

"Dobby is glad to have met Harry Potter too! Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!" The elf sobbed into his front. "Farewell, Harry Potter!"

And with a final crack, Dobby vanished. Harry sat on the bed for some time afterwards, thinking to himself. In the end, he just got changed into his pajamas and went to sleep. He didn't notice the other boys coming up to bed afterwards, being deeply asleep.

* * *

So, that's my finale to the Chamber of Secrets. Riddle is actually more powerful than he initially appeared, Harry somehow gains a second magic circuit and a Mystic Eye in his left eye due to a combination of an active magic circuit and his Parseltongue ability. Note that while Archer might say he doesn't know about artificial Mystic Eyes, the wiki clearly states that it is possible to forge one in a way similar to making a Thaumaturgical Crest. What sort of spell do you think it should have? Perhaps something Code Geass-esque, since the Basilisk is the King of Serpents? Interesting, wouldn't you guys say? Anyway, Harry will be attempting some research into it in future...

You know, when I reread the scene where Dumbledore tells Harry that only a true Gryffindor could pull out the sword... after reading all those manipulative!Dumbles fanfics, I can't help but think that is just an issue of showmanship, or claiming 'credit' for the Hat dropping it in the first place. Seriously, I like my idea better.

Next chapter should tie up the second year, with a bit of Harry's activities back at home.

Read and review, guys!


	24. Twelfth Curse

When Harry stepped into the Great Hall that morning, there was a brief moment of silence as everyone present turned to look at him, before the students began whispering among themselves. He could hear a bit of what was being said as he walked over to where Neville and Hermione wer with a slight limp.

"There he is." "Killed a Basilisk..." "Where'd he get the sword?" "Portrait said... Gryffindor's..."

Up at the teachers' table, Harry could see that Dumbledore wasn't present. However, Sprout, Flitwick and Snape were, and they were staring at him as well. Harry could practically feel the dislike coming off Snape and sighed; the man seemed determined to hate him, and given how much he had been accused of being attention-seeking and arrogant, this entire incident would just serve as proof for Snape's misconceptions.

_I can just imagine it... the Slytherins will ask him whether it is true, and being the vindictive git he is, he'll tell them to go ask me, and throw off a comment to make them think I did it all for the sake of attention, which will give them the wrong impression right away. _

_You can't please everybody. _Archer concluded, making Harry nod slightly in agreement.

"You okay, Harry?" Neville asked the green-eye boy as he sat down with a wince, while Hermione immediately began filling a plate for him.

"Muscle aches." He grunted in reply; he hadn't felt them until he woke up this morning. "Thanks, Hermione." Harry said as he accepted the plate of food from the girl.

"You're welcome."

_The adrenaline made you overexert yourself without realizing it. _Archer explained.

"Hey Harry, I know what you said last night," Neville started, "But could you tell me exactly what happened to you?"

The few students that overheard instantly turned their heads towards the pair, but turned away again when Harry looked in their direction, though it was obvious to anyone that they were listening closely to whatever he was going to say. But before Harry could say anything, he was approached by the rest of his friends in ones and twos. Fred and George, Daphne and Tracey, Susan, Hannah and Cedric, Su and Lisa, all of them had concerned looks on their faces.

Harry quickly realized he had to get control over the situation quickly. "First of all, I'm fine. And second, I'll tell you guys later, just not now. Okay?"

They nodded, and Daphne said, "But you will tell us, won't you?" She looked at him meaningfully.

"Of course. Now let's eat breakfast." _That's a definite 'or else', isn't it? _Harry thought.

_Yes, Harry. It is. _Archer confirmed.

Purposely taking his time to eat, Harry was also reviewing the details he was going to give Luna and the rest later. With more people listening, he had to be careful not to let contradicting details slip in and be found out. The true reason of how he had went down into the Chamber was better off being his private secret.

He noticed Luna come into the hall and look around. When she spotted the group, she came over and sat down with them without saying a word. Su, the one she was sitting next to, glanced at the blonde and turned to Harry.

"Giving an interview for the Herald?" She asked.

He nodded, not speaking due to his mouth being stuffed with food.

"I see now." Daphne spoke, giving Harry an arch look. "So you're going to hit two targets with the same spell."

"Kill two birds with one stone." Hermione corrected absently.

"Is that what Muggles say? Well, they still mean the same thing." It was faint, but there was a clear note of dismissal in Daphne's words, and Hermione bristled slightly.

_Guess they are still a bit rough in getting along with each other... _Harry thought, watching the girls out of the corner of his eye.

As Harry continued to eat, a few students came over to ask him about last night's events, only to be rebuffed by his friends and told to wait for the Herald. Just as he was finishing up, Draco came up to him. Harry had noticed his Slytherin vice-president enter a while ago and sit at the Slytherin table, but he did not eat anything, clearly waiting until this moment to come forward.

"Harry, I want to ask you-"

"Later, Draco. In the Student Council office, with the others," interrupted Harry.

The seriousness in Harry's green gaze persuaded the Slytherin, and Draco nodded. "Don't you dare start without me, Harry."

"I won't." Harry reassured.

Accepting that, Draco returned to the Slytherin table, where he finally began to eat. Just as Harry was finishing up his breakfast, Dumbledore came in. Instead of taking his seat, he fired a small firecracker to get the students' attention. Harry frowned, wondering what the man was up to.

Clearing his throat, Dumbledore began to speak, "As all of you probably witnessed last night, we had a student appear in front of us in a horrifying state, to inform us that the Basilisk terrorizing the place is no longer around to pose a threat. I am telling you all right now that it is true. Last night, your teachers and I examined the evidence for ourselves, and found it to be genuine. The Basilisk is well and truly dead."

He paused for a moment, then somebody started to cheer. It was picked up by the rest of the students with great enthusiasm, and Harry found himself the focus of congratulations and smiles once again. The boy looked around, and couldn't see anyone displeased with that announcement other than Snape. After a while, Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, and the crowd quieted.

"In light of that, I hereby award Harry Potter a Special Award for Services to the School." Dumbledore announced.

There was another bout of cheering and applause, though considerably less. The Weasley twins began protesting, asking for House points instead, but Dumbledore simply gestured for silence once more, and was given it.

_I thought we agreed, no House points, no award, and I get the eyeball!_ Harry thought, annoyed.

_He didn't actually say he wasn't going to give you an award, _Archer pointed out, _And he's trying to accomplish something with this._

_What? _Harry wanted to know, glancing at Luna, who was busy scribbling down notes.

_Figure it out yourself. And don't rely on her._

Dumbledore was answering the Weasley twins. "Harry Potter, when asked, said he did not deserve any points or award for his actions. After hearing his reasons, I must agree. However, while unintentional, he has done this school a service, hence the award."

Hearing that, the Gryffindors settled down, though a few still continued to wish they had gotten points as well. Harry thought it was quite redundant as Gryffindor was already in the lead for the House Cup.

Dumbledore picked up his goblet and raised it high. "To Harry Potter."

Most of the students followed the example. "To Harry Potter." They echoed.

The boy in question had his head ducked down, nearly underneath the table. _God damn it, _He groused, _This is embarrassing._

"Head up high, Harry." Cedric encouraged. "You should be proud of yourself."

"I think I'm fine like this, thank you." Harry refused, drawing chuckles from his friends.

Eventually, he managed to escape from the Great Hall, and returned to Gryffindor tower to get the Basilisk eye. He had considered this carefully; it would make his account more convincing with it around. Pulling it out of his trunk, Harry left for the Student Council office.

On his way there, he was surprised at how much of a change in reaction there was from the students whose paths he crossed. Earlier when he was going down for breakfast, Harry kept getting asked whether he really did what he said or was he just playing a prank on the school, as though people were doubting him. It was a logical conclusion, given the knowledge of what could be done with magic, but a bit irritating to experience the outcome. Now, however, he kept getting thanks and congratulations from the students, even some of those who were skeptical before.

_Really, just how much convincing power does Dumbledore have? _Harry wondered, slipping into an alcove behind a curious suit of armor so he could hide under his Cloak and avoid further attention.

_Quite a lot, I would say. _Archer chuckled

_I don't find it funny... having people believe something just because 'he said so', doesn't make me feel comfortable. _Harry thought darkly as he stepped out, now invisible.

_You're right... Have you figured out what he was trying to do by announcing that?_

Harry paused for a moment, then continued walking. _He's playing up my reputation as a hero, and a modest one. The question is, what for?_

_What do you think?_

_To make me the one opposing Voldemort. White against black. Good versus evil. _Harry grimaced. _A successor to him._

_Sounds like you're against that. _Archer commented.

_Of course I am! I didn't ask for my fame in the first place... remember before I came to Hogwarts? The Boy-Who-Lived is a hoax. And the one who spread that around is none other than Dumbledore. Even if it's for a good reason, he still did it._

_He IS a manipulator. _Archer agreed with Harry.

_Anyway, I don't trust him. We're here. _Harry looked around and saw he was alone in the corridor, and quickly took off his Cloak and hid it away.

He opened the door and walked in, and then paused; the room was _crowded_. In addition to his group of friends and the Student Council, Harry saw Crabbe and Goyle, and a number of older students from each of the four Houses. It wasn't much as he had been expecting; the rumor must not have passed very far before this unofficial event. The muttering that was present faded away as they took notice of him, and Harry felt a bit self-conscious at their expectant looks.

Walking to the head of the table, he placed the jar on it, allowing them to see the Basilisk eye for themselves. Luna nodded to him; her quill was poised above her notebook, ready to write.

Harry exhaled. "Okay, so where should I start? I don't see any point in answering whether I really killed a Basilisk or not, since Dumbledore already said so, and all of you can see this eyeball here."

"How about how you got into the Chamber of Secrets?" Luna suggested before anyone else could; Hermione gave the girl an annoyed look.

Harry didn't have to fake his disgust; the thought of his hubris in bringing the diary along rankled even now. "I thought I might have missed a clue in Myrtle's bathroom, and went back there with this book I picked up a few months ago. The last thing I knew before I blacked out was the sound of fluttering paper."

He didn't miss his friends in Gryffindor exchanging looks; they knew which book he was referring to. After all, two of them were there with him when he picked it up, and the third had seen it after he showed it to her. Harry tell from the look on Hermione's face that he was in for a lecture afterwards.

_Although I think it would be beating a dead horse by then. _"After I woke up, I found myself in this giant stone chamber the size of the Great Hall. There were pillars with carved stone snakes on them, and at the far end was this gigantic statue of Salazar Slytherin." Harry glanced around, and continued his tale.

"The thing that brought me there was a paper construct." He paused.

"Paper construct?"

_I knew someone would ask. _"Something like this." Harry drew his wand and cast a shredding charm on a rough piece of parchment. He then gathered up the pieces and made them take the shape of a body. "Imagine that thing, talking and moving, at the size of you and me." He felt a bit of satisfaction at seeing some of them shiver.

"Anyway, it introduced itself as Tom Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle." He could see the comprehension dawn in some of their eyes. "I'm sure all of you remember that name being printed in the Herald earlier this year. Interesting, isn't it? The person who claimed to have caught the Heir of Slytherin fifty years ago appearing in front of me _IN _the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry set his jaw, looking at Luna again. Her unnaturally wide eyes were locked on him, but there was a smirk playing at the corner of her lips, while her hand was moving quickly as she recorded down his words.

"Oh, and then Tom Riddle boasted to me, saying that he managed to fool everyone into thinking the Heir was Hagrid. He revealed to me that _he_ was the Heir of Slytherin." Harry turned to Draco. "I don't think there's a Riddle family, is there?"

"No, there isn't." Draco replied automatically, and suddenly his jaw fell open as the Slytherins in the room gasped. "You mean... the Heir of Slytherin was a mu- wasn't a Pureblood?"

Harry nodded once. "That's what he said. Moving on, he was also very curious about me... particularly about how I survived the night on Halloween. I asked him why, considering that he was from the past. And he revealed something very interesting to me."

"Well? What is it?" A sixth-year Ravenclaw said impatiently.

Schooling his expression, Harry twisted around in his chair and wrote out Riddle's full name in the air with his wand in fiery letters. Next, he touched the tip of the wand to the letter V, and dragged it slightly down. Letter by letter, he first formed 'Voldemort', then 'Lord', and finally 'I am', hearing the gasps of shock and shouts of denial from the students behind him as he assembled the puzzle pieces for them to see.

"No!" Draco was spluttering. "The Dark Lord can't be a Mudblood! It's a lie! You're lying!"

"That's what the being told me. I promise you I am telling the truth about that." Harry ignored the use of the derogatory word, speaking over the chaos that he had unleashed. "Whether it is true or not, I do not know."

He sat back and let them wear themselves out protesting the truth he had thrown into their faces, until the hubbub was finally broken by Luna.

"I think it's true." Her matter-of-fact tone made everyone stop and look at her. "He could open the Chamber of Secrets, that means he was able to speak Parseltongue, doesn't it? Am I right, Harry?" She directed the last question at Harry himself.

He nodded. "He certainly was hissing when he made the mouth of Slytherin's statue open for the Basilisk to come out and attack me."

"How do you know, huh?" Someone demanded.

"I have ears, don't I? I could hear the damn hissing _very well._" Harry stressed the last part to convey how serious he was.

Hermione was so shocked she didn't even chide him for the language. "Then what happened next?" She asked.

Everyone quieted down to listen, their curiosity outweighing any disbelief they might have had. Harry took a breath, and continued to speak. He gave them the same story he had given the teachers last night, about how he had fended off the Basilisk until a stroke of luck caused it to die from masonry to the head.

"There's no glory in what I did." Harry said quietly. "I was fighting for no one but myself at that time, and I won only through sheer luck. So no matter what the Headmaster says, I shouldn't have gotten that award."

Nobody seemed willing to speak, as his dark mood had conveyed just how serious he was about the events down in the Chamber.

"So how did you get out?"

"Fawkes carried me out. Phoenixes can lift weights many times theirs. We flew up this large pipe, which opened out into Myrtle's bathroom."

"Myrtle's-" George began.  
"-bathroom?" finished Fred.  
They looked at each other and chorused, "The Chamber of Secrets is hidden in a girls toilet!"

That set off the Slytherins again, only for Harry to counter by giving them details about the entrance; how it had a snake carving on it, how the tap never worked, and the best part, that Myrtle had saw him come out of the place. A number of them ran out to check it for themselves, leaving only Draco and his two hanger-ons staying behind.

Draco groaned. "This whole thing sounds so amazing and unbelievable, yet coming from you, I can believe it."

"So what happens now?" Hermione asked keenly.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose the Basilisk will just lie there rotting, since there's no Parselmouth around to open the Chamber again. Other than that, I'll just go on with life, since there's still the exams to think about." _But I'll try to get at the carcass. Basilisk venom is quite valuable._

"How can you be so... so _uncaring_ about what happened?" Susan demanded. "You nearly died down there, but you're acting like it's nothing!"

Tracey nodded in agreement. "She's got a point. How can you act so nonchalant?"

_You know what? Let's just give a straight answer. _"Well, first you have to consider my life. At the age of one, a Dark Lord came to kill me and failed, somehow resulting in me becoming famous for reasons I don't even understand. Then, at the age of seven, I was nearly killed by my magic-hating uncle." Harry didn't miss the horrified looks that bit of information caused, but didn't make any mention of them.

"And seriously, for all everyone tells me about Hogwarts being safe, I've faced quite a bit of danger here. Last year, Dumbledore announced at the start, what was it? -avoid the third floor corridor if you do not want to die a painful death. The troll at Halloween. Somebody trying to curse my broom during my first Quidditch match." Harry nodded to Hermione, who clearly recalled her own actions back then.

"I remember that one." George interrupted.  
"Yeah, your broom kept jerking away from us, even when we tried to catch you." Fred nodded.

"There were a few other incidents, of course." Harry didn't want to end up destroying Hogwarts reputation too much, especially since some of the things that happened last year were better off kept secret. "And then this year, we had a Basilisk. And Papermort. So you see, I've grown a bit used to situations like this."

He could see that most of his listeners were in agreement with him, although some looked sick at hearing how often he had come close to death.

"Wait, who's Papermort?" Ron asked confusedly.

"Voldemort in paper form, so... Papermort." Harry ignored the wincing the name evoked. "Anything else?" He asked Luna.

The blonde rechecked her notes. "No, I think you've covered everything. I'll go get started on the article right away."

Harry had to answer a few more questions from those who were curious about the smaller details, like what the Chamber looked like or the size of the Basilisk, but apart from that, nobody asked any questions that he would have trouble answering. Granted, the ones who came the closest to realizing the truth were his closest friends, especially since they knew him well, but Harry managed to fool them.

The Herald's reporting of his version of the events proved to have a larger impact than even he himself expected; the other students were thanking him for keeping them safe in addition to looking at him with respect, yet they gave him the distance he asked for. There were a few dissidents who didn't believe him, of course, but they kept to themselves. What was startling was how many of the Purebloods accepted that he was telling the truth regarding Voldemort's true ancestry. While it wasn't reported in the Prophet, Draco and Daphne reported that the Pureblood faction was in a quiet uproar about it. Daphne also passed on a warning from her parents that he might be targeted by a few disbelievers, prompting Harry to increase the intensity of his training and research.

And then there was Dumbledore, who called him to his office one day for a talk.

"Harry, I must ask that you keep certain truths to yourself."

Harry knew that he was referring to Voldemort's identity, but since the man was purposely being vague...

_Two can play at that game. _"What do you mean, sir?" He asked innocently.

Dumbledore's eyebrows approached each other slightly. "The knowledge of Voldemort's real name is a dangerous one, and by foolishly revealing it, you may have exposed yourself to danger."

"I was already in danger, sir." Harry answered coolly. "In case you've forgotten, Voldemort is still after me."

"He is a wraith, but his followers are very much real and capable of harming you." The old wizard gave him a grandfatherly look filled with disappointment.

_I hate it when he tries to guilt-trip me. _"Then surely this time they'll get caught." Before Dumbledore could reply to that, Harry launched his own counterattack. "By the way, Headmaster, this is the second time Voldemort's come after me, even if it wasn't the real one I met last year. Surely I deserve to know why?"

Dumbledore didn't let any clue slip from his facial features. "That knowledge is still too heavy for you to know, Harry. I ask that you trust me in that."

_You ask me to trust you but you won't trust me. _Harry thought savagely as he broke the mental probe sent his way without any change in expression. _And you persist in trying to scan my mind? _"B'lsh't." He coughed. "Fine, _Headmaster_, but if Voldemort comes after me one more time..." He left it hanging.

In the end, Harry left Dumbledore's office after agreeing not to talk to any reporters in future. But he had come to a decision regarding himself and the old man. He would never trust Dumbledore.

The exams still hung over the heads of the students. While the revived Colin Creevey and Justin Finch-Fletchey didn't have to take them, they had to go through an intensive revision course to catch up to their peers, saving Harry from being bothered by their company.

The examinations themselves weren't really that hard, especially since Hermione's efforts kept everyone in the group ready. For Harry, who hadn't studied as much as the rest due to his other pursuits, he supplemented it by simply Analyzing all his notes for last-minute revision before the written tests, and proceeded to answer every question perfectly while the memory remained fresh in his mind. It was cheating in a sense, but Harry discussed it with Archer enough to give himself a pass on doing so this time.

The practical portions weren't hard either, though they were certainly a step up from last year. Professor McGonagall had them turn cuckoos into cuckoo clocks, with bonus points for the design. For Charms, they had to magically clean up a messy desk in front of Professor Flitwick, with points taken off if anything fell off. Herbology was the easiest; Professor Sprout simply tested them on proper equipment maintenance by cleaning pots. As for Potions, Snape made them brew an antidote for Doxy venom, which he tested on the brewers themselves by having a Doxy bite them, earning himself quite a number of annoyed glares, mostly from those who messed up because they were up late last night for the Astronomy exam.

Astronomy and History were the same as last year, reinforcing Harry's opinion that they weren't very useful subjects. He was understanding why most people drop those two subjects after they had taken the OWLs for them.

With the end of the exams, it seemed as though the dark cloud hanging over Hogwarts had lifted. Students were acting more cheerful, chatting away as they walked through the corridors. There was blessed relief felt among all as the roosters were finally removed, and Oliver increased the number of training sessions as the final Quidditch matches of the year approached. Looking at all this, the gloomy atmosphere caused by the fear of the Chamber of Secrets appeared to be nothing but a bad dream.

_It is nice to see them recovering so quickly, _Archer replied when Harry mentioned it to him, _But sometimes I wonder if they're just trying to ignore the whole thing instead of learning from it._

That statement made Harry pause and consider; it raised a lot of dangerous implications if what Archer said was right. Still, he decided to look at things more optimistically for now.

He spent more time trying to find the Horcrux in the Room of Hidden Things, hoping to accomplish the task before they were sent back for the summer, but days continued to pass without the source of the prana smell appearing. It wasn't easy either, as Harry noticed that he was being watched by more than a few older students; his account of what happened clearly made some people worry about him disappearing again. It also restricted him from his magecraft research, but Harry had arrived at a conclusion regarding that. He was going to abandon the traditional Jewel magecraft route and forge his own, by utilizing the filtering property he had discovered before.

That was how Harry found himself making an incredible discovery two nights before the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match. The small amount of prana he poured into a slightly flawed ruby emerged in the form of bright red flames that burnt the block of wood he was using for testing purposes down to ash, yet neither the flames nor the scorched remains were in any way hot. When he increased the amount he put in to see how big the flames would get, it resulted in the gem breaking into tiny shards, useless even after he put them back together with Alchemy.

When he attempted the same with different types of gems, Harry was mildly surprised to see various colored flames, each corresponding to the color of the gem he used. Some of the gems he used yielded flames that were a mix of others in lower quantities, and he eventually managed to discover that there were seven main types that matched the colors of the rainbow. However, none of them produced any noticeable changes in the block apart from the purple flames of the amethyst, which caused some odd bulging in the material.

Harry stared at the seven innocent-looking jewels on the table in front of him. "Hmm. This bears further research."

* * *

Harry was waiting in the locker room, idly playing with his broomstick. Sitting on either side of him, Fred and George were doing the same, although they kept glancing towards him. The three Chasers hadn't arrived yet, and Oliver was pacing around in front of the three boys. The girls finally came a few minutes later, and sat on the bench as well.

Oliver stopped and turned to them. "Okay, men and women. This is really it. We're currently in the lead for the Quidditch Cup. We've got to win this. We've _got to_!" He sounded almost pleading.

"We will, Oliver." Angelina reassured.

"Bloody right we will. We might have missed our chance at the Quidditch Cup last year, but this year we're definitely going to get it in the bag!" He glared around at the rest of them as though to say 'or else'.

"Don't worry, Oliver," said Alicia, "We'll do it."

"You can count on us." said Katie.

Feeling pressured to say something as well, Harry added, "Definitely."

Oliver didn't say anything for a moment, but appeared to be holding back tears. He finally clapped both hands on his cheeks and nodded. "It's time. Let's go."

The Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous applause. Harry felt strangely detached as he looked up at the cheering students on the stands. He spotted his group of friends seated together, holding up a banner to show their support for him. It made him smile a little.

Madam Hooch made the two team captains shake hands, which Oliver did in a significantly friendlier manner as compared to the match against Slytherin. The players mounted their brooms, and took off at the sound of the whistle.

Harry noticed something almost immediately. His vision seemed unusually clear even without applying Reinforcement to his eyes, and his awareness had somehow extended itself to a large area around him. Without anything more than a cursory glance to confirm the direction, Harry dropped slightly in altitude, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a Bludger.

_What's going on? _He wondered as he watched Katie wrest possession of the Bludger away from the opposing Chaser and score a goal. _The cheering... sounds kind of muted, yet somehow clear..._

_Did the Basilisk gaze do more than just create a new magic circuit? _

_Seems like it... _Harry performed a Sloth Grip Roll to avoid another Bludger, making it look as though he wasn't even trying. _I feel like I've partially Reinforced myself, except I'm not._

_You aren't. _Archer confirmed. _But it's clear that your physical abilities have been improved._

_Guess I need to scan myself after this. _Harry's eyes flickered over to the Gryffindor goalpost. _There it is. Near the ground. I can actually see it even while its moving, although it's still blurry._

The opposing Seeker Cho Chang was flying around at a lower height compared to him, alternating between keeping an eye on him and looking for the Snitch. The Ravenclaw Beaters had abandoned trying to hit Harry, instead focusing on helping their team lead in points. At the moment, the score was thirty to twenty in Gryffindor's favor, but a combination play on Ravenclaw's end equalized the score even as Harry watched.

_It's slowing down. She'll spot it soon._ Archer said.

Cho was currently drifting towards the goalposts on the Ravenclaw end, but at the slightest hint of the Snitch, she would head for it right away.

_Let's try it then. _Harry planted his feet into the stirrups and leaned forward, shooting towards the Ravenclaw end in a gentle dive.

He could hear the screams of the crowd and Lee Jordan's excited commentary as they noticed, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cho jerk into action, flying at a controlled pace, indicating that she was wary of a feint.

One of the Ravenclaw Beaters sent a Bludger flying straight on at him, while the other flew for the other Bludger, intending to complement his partner's attack. Harry angled even further downwards to avoid it, and there was a mix of despaired moans and excited screams as Cho overtook his position.

Harry locked his neck and turned his broomstick even further, resulting in him flying towards the Gryffindor end upside down. The G-force of his loop dragged at his body, but it wasn't really enough to affect his flying. Above his head, the ground was only ten meters away, and that distance was gradually decreasing as he guided his broomstick down to the level where he last saw the Snitch.

_There. _Harry's eyes locked onto the Snitch, unblinking. _There's no set pattern to its movements, apart from a two second limit before it moves again, and I can see a linear yellow flash when it does._

Using one hand, he adjusted his flying to match the Snitch's position. The distance between him and it was shortening at a rapid pace; Harry stretched out a hand, keeping his arm loose in case it made a sudden motion as it came towards him.

_Up! _Harry's eyes widened, but he didn't ignore his instincts. Dragging on the handle of the broom, he flew upwards, just as the Snitch abandoned its jerky dodging for a direct shoot upwards as well. _Cho's coming as well... I have to get it!_

Inch by inch, he closed the gap between it and his hand, and then-

Harry made a grab for it, but the Snitch darted to the left, barely slipping out of his fingers. At this range, he could clearly see it; the points where its thin golden wings were attached, its embossed surface as it started to turn to face him, the slight blurring of its edges as it moved to go over his shoulder-

He turned his head, and struck like a serpent using his neck. Harry felt the wing beat against his lips, then his teeth, and finally his tongue; he barely remembered not to use his teeth when he clamped his mouth closed, halting the Snitch's movement. Bringing his free hand to his face, he gripped the small golden ball tightly before opening his mouth to release the wing. As he lifted it above his head, slowing down on his broom, the previously muted cheering suddenly seemed to explode loudly.

Something sped towards him, and Harry instinctively moved aside; Oliver hit the ground hard, rolling off his broom, but quickly got up and raced over to Harry as he landed. The teenager was sobbing, and he seized Harry around the neck in a tight hug. There was a thump as one of the twins slammed into them, knocking all three of them over without Oliver releasing his grip. The other twin joined, and then Angelina, Alicia and Katie, forming a large scrum on the field.

"We won the Cup! We won the Cup!" Harry didn't know which of the three Chasers was yelling. It sounded like all their voices combined.

The thrum of many feet could be felt through the earth as waves of supporters came pouring off the stands and onto the field. It was a confusing experience as Harry felt dozens of hands patting him on the back, then his body being hoisted onto shoulders in a sudden burst of light as the bodies covering him were removed.

The victory galvanized everyone he could see; Percy was jumping up and down uncontrollably, while McGonagall was openly crying, wiping her eyes with a Gryffindor flag. Hermione, Neville and Ron were fighting their way towards him, all beaming at him as the Gryffindor team was being borne towards the stands. A grin spread across Harry's face, and then he let out a scream of victory, which made the Gryffindors around him burst into cheers of their own.

When Oliver passed Harry the Quidditch Cup Dumbledore presented them for him to display it to the crowd, Harry thought that Quidditch wasn't so bad after all. Archer's quiet clapping in his mind also added a nice touch to this victory.

When he analyzed himself later, Harry found that while his body initially appeared normal, stress and adrenaline triggered a sort of latent body Reinforcement. The Basilisk gaze clearly did more than just give him a new magic circuit. Speaking of that, Harry still had no idea what his Mystic Eye could do, and the lack of easy solitude prevented him from finding out anything other than the fact that it could not petrify or kill like the Basilisk's could. (He swiped one of the rats used for Transfiguration to test)

Two days later, Harry played Seeker in the student-faculty match, and he outflew Snape to catch the Golden Snitch once more, securing another win for the students. These two back-to-back wins was discussed for days afterwards, and the issues of the Chamber and Riddle's alias was all but forgotten in their wake.

After a Leaving Feast with Gryffindor winning the House Cup for the second time this year (not that he cared), Harry retired to the Student Council office with the rest of the Council. Neville came along at Harry's request, although he appeared confused as to why he was there.

"This might come as a surprise," He began, "But I've decided to step down as the Student Council President."

As he expected, there was an outcry from the other three students. "What? Why?" demanded Hannah.

"Just because I've done a good job so far doesn't mean that none of you can't do the same. I intend for one of you to become the new President in my stead." Harry replied. He noticed anticipation flash across Draco's face at those words.

"Then what will you do? Are you leaving the Council?" Su asked him.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I believe Neville would be a good replacement for me."

The boy he mentioned was the most surprised of all of them. "Me? But Harry, I-" He stopped when Harry held up a hand.

"I have confidence in you, Neville. You can do it if you try."

After a moment's hesitation, the formerly timid Gryffindor accepted.

"Okay, so Longbottom's joined the Council," Draco broke in, "But who's going to be the next President then?"

Harry looked at the blonde, then turned to Hannah. "Hannah will be the next President."

"Me?" Hannah was shocked to be the one selected.

"Why her?" Draco demanded with a touch of anger in his tone. "Why not me?"

_Because you're too hasty still. But I won't say that. _Harry glanced at the Slytherin. "You've proven your ability, Draco, but because of the whole Heir of Slytherin thing-"

"It's over already, isn't it?!" The other boy protested.

"But people still remember! It gives them the impression that Slytherin means you're a Dark Wizard, and that will work against you." Harry insisted, drawing on his acting skills to appear as convincing as he could. "That's why I picked Hannah. Everyone knows you can count on the Hufflepuffs."

"And how is that supposed to help the Slytherins?"

"Face it, Slytherin and Gryffindor have a bad relationship. But with a Hufflepuff, it would be easier to bridge the gap that Slytherin has with the other three Houses. Wouldn't you agree?"

"It can't be that bad." Draco said dismissively. "I can do a better job than she can." He sneered at Hannah, making the girl shrink slightly.

"If Harry says she should be President, then she should be, not you." Neville spoke up.

"What do you know, Longbottom?" The Slytherin snarled at him.

Neville stood up, facing Draco determinedly. "I may not know what it's like to be President, but I trust Harry."

Su picked that moment to speak up. "You're too easily riled up, Malfoy. Remember how Harry faced detractors saying he couldn't do a good job? They were pretty harsh with their words, too. Can you actually face them without losing control?"

_Thank you, Su, for saying that for me. _"Enough." Harry said strongly, drawing everyone's attention. "Su raises a fair point. Draco, can you actually control yourself when people say that?"

"...fine, let her be President." Draco grumbled, leaning back in his chair.

_Glad to see he's no longer letting his pride control him and threatening to go to his father. That was a hard habit to break. _"Hannah, I'll ask you one more time. Will you be the next President?"

The girl nodded. "I will. I won't let you down."

Harry nodded back, and the discussion turned towards other issues. There was some discussion of getting some of the first-years to join the Council as future successors, but no concrete decision was made. The rest of the night was occupied with bringing up ideas for next year's events. When Harry made the announcement the following night, Hufflepuff table burst into thunderous applause.

There was also closure in the form of Ginny Weasley, who came up to him one night in the common room when he was alone. She tearfully confessed to being the one who brought the diary in, having found it after the trip to Diagon Alley; she had been writing in it and blacking out whenever an attack occurred, until she finally gotten scared and got rid of it in Myrtle's toilet. Ginny also admitted to being the one who ransacked the second-year boys' dorm when she thought of taking it back so no one would find out about her. She apologized profusely for all the trouble she had caused him, and after Harry was done listening to her, he agreed to forgive her and keep her secret.

_She made her own stupid mistake, but as long as she learned from it, I'm okay with that. Besides, can you imagine what this would do to the Weasleys if it got out? _Harry explained his decision to Archer afterwards.

Seeing as it resulted in a much more cheerful Ginny Weasley for the remainder of the term, Harry decided he had made the right choice.

As the days counted down to the journey home on the Hogwarts Express, Harry found himself in a rush to tie things up before then. Resigning himself to resuming the Horcrux search in his third year, he made arrangements with the house elves to keep the area untouched over the summer, which they were only too happy to comply with. Harry also made use of a Shrinking Charm applied to the trunk of books from the Room, and sent Ilya to drop it off at the house along with the Basilisk eye and the jewelry he intended to use in his magecraft research. The workshop was used to store the Science Club materials like last year, though it had increased in amount significantly, causing him to decide to find a different storeroom in the future.

Surprisingly, it wasn't difficult to get Slytherin's journal from the Sorting Hat. When Fawkes showed up in response to Harry's attempt to contact the phoenix, it listened to his request and brought the Hat to him in the Room, where the bloodstained accessory dropped the book into his lap before letting Fawkes take it back to Dumbledore's office. The journal was placed into the trunk with the other books to be sent ahead first, and Harry later found several translation spells in the library to try out later.

Then there was the release of the examination results. Not surprisingly, Hermione scored top in all the subjects, which led to a rather odd situation in an empty classroom.

"You've scored higher, that means I lost the wager." Daphne told the girl, who looked between her and Harry. "So, I'll be performing the penalty."

"Wait, I thought it's the winner who gets a prize?" Harry interrupted.

"It's the other way round, Harry." Hermione corrected him. "The loser is supposed... to..." She trailed off as she recalled just what terms Daphne had named.

Before either of them could react, the Slytherin girl leaned in and pressed her lips to Harry's for a long moment before pulling away. "I wouldn't mind doing penalties if this was what was involved." She flashed a wicked smile at them before leaving.

Harry and Hermione stared after her in shock, while Archer was snickering away.

"What just happened?" Harry asked dumbly.

Hermione shot a glare at him, her cheeks oddly flushed. "Don't ask me!" She snapped, and left the room as well.

"Wait, Hermione, what's wrong? Why're you-"

"J-just leave me alone!"

Archer refused to explain things to him as well, leaving Harry rather confused. When he next saw Daphne, he couldn't help but remember how it was like when she kissed him, making it awkward to talk to her. It also seemed like Hermione had equal difficulty talking to him, which made getting answers from her even harder.

Luckily, due to some unspoken agreement to put things aside for now, their relationship returned to what it was before when the day for the students to leave arrived. Harry, Hermione, Neville, Su, Susan and Daphne had a compartment to themselves, with the rest of their friends taking the neighboring ones. Throughout the train ride, they visited the other compartments often, until Harry finally got tired halfway through and curled up to read **The Magic of Unicorns**.

It was an interesting book, describing not only how unicorns lived and developed as they aged, but also listed some of their innate magical abilities, which in addition to allowing their tail hair to be used in wands, had several purifying properties, plus a connection to the element of air. There was also a section that explained how the spilling of unicorn blood for its lifesaving property tainted that purity, and that the taint was responsible for the curse that struck the drinkers; Harry was fascinated to read that freely offered unicorn blood did not bear the curse because it lacked the taint, but it was rarely documented because unicorns were usually untrusting and leery of offering their own blood to save others. He almost didn't hear Archer calling him as he pondered the information in the book.

_You're thinking of something. _The spirit remarked.

_Yeah, this part about being related to the air element, it gives me an idea. _Harry admitted.

Archer listened to the idea, before admitting, _It would work, but where would you find the knowledge?_

_I don't know. I'll think of something._

As usual, Hermione noticed the book, and asked to borrow it later, but before Harry could reply, George stuck his head in to gleefully inform that their older brother Percy had a girlfriend. When Harry unthinkingly blurted out that he had seen the girl in question leaving one of the rooms in the dungeon on Christmas, the ensuing discussion that drew Ron and Hermione in took up the rest of the train ride.

When the Hogwarts Express came to a stop, Harry recalled the initial attempt to contact Susan's aunt, and quickly sought the girl's help. The redheaded Hufflepuff agreed, and led him over to a stern-looking monocle-wearing woman when they got off the train.

"Hello, Susan, had a nice year?" She greeted Susan, glancing at Harry with a sharp gaze. "And you're... Harry Potter, of course."

"It could be better." Susan hugged her aunt. "Harry wanted to talk to you. Harry, this is my aunt, Amelia Bones."

"I see. What about?" There was a slight furrowing of the woman's brows.

Harry was feeling a little self-conscious under Madam Bones' stare. "Madam Bones, did you receive any notice regarding a Basilisk in Hogwarts?"

"No, I did not." There was confusion on her face, but the woman's tone was frosty. "Explain."

Harry gave a quick summary of the events at Hogwarts, and Madam Bones' expression became increasingly severe as she listened. After he finished talking, there was a period where none of them spoke, even as the crowd of students disembarking from the train moved around them. In the end, it was Madam Bones who spoke first.

"We shall discuss this later, as it is not a matter for public discussion. I will-" She broke off and looked behind Harry, her eyes narrowing in dislike. "Do you need something, Malfoy?"

Harry turned to see Mr Malfoy standing behind him, with long blond hair and a jeweled cane held in gloved hands, together with Draco and a blond woman who looked to be Draco's mother. He caught the displeased look the man shot at him, but the next moment, Mr Malfoy's expression was just normal haughtiness. When Harry looked at Draco questioningly, he received one of confusion in reply, implying that the other boy had no idea of his father's intentions.

"I do have a certain question to ask of this young man here." Mr Malfoy indicated Harry with a tilt of his head. "Is it true that you received information stating that the Dark Lord's ancestry was not entirely... pure?"

Harry nodded, watching the man carefully. When he saw a look of repressed rage on Mr Malfoy's face, he became quite sure of the man's guilt of being a Death Eater.

_He's the one. _

Harry blinked. _Huh?_

_He's the one who planted the diary on Ginny Weasley. _Archer said with conviction. _He's the one behind the opening of the Chamber._

With a start, Harry connected the dots and realized that Archer was probably right. While he didn't know what exactly tipped Archer off, that day in Diagon Alley, after Mr Malfoy had tussled with Mr Weasley, he was holding one of Ginny's books. It wouldn't have been hard for him to slip the diary into it back then. Harry narrowed his eyes at the man, but refrained from showing any further dislike.

Luckily, Mr Malfoy didn't do anything else. "Draco, we're leaving." The man snapped, and strode away, followed by his family.

"Hmph." Madam Bones grunted, expressing her own opinion of the Malfoy family. "What was that he mentioned about You-Know-Who?"

"Here, auntie." Susan took out the copy of the Herald containing Luna's article and handed it to her.

The woman glanced through it once before fixing her gaze upon Harry again. "That discussion appears to be more urgent than I thought. When is the earliest time we can meet?"

"Tomorrow morning would be fine."

"Then I shall call upon your house at nine." Madam Bones said firmly. "Now, I believe you have friends waiting for you."

Sure enough, when Harry looked around, he spotted Hermione waiting for him impatiently along with Su, Daphne and their parents. He said goodbye to Susan and her Aunt before going over to join Hermione and the others. He greeted them, shaking hands with the adults and making plans to visit over the summer, before he went through the barrier back into the mundane world.

"Uncle John, Aunt Diana." He greeted his foster parents on the other side. "Glad to see you two."

"Hello, Harry. We need to talk about that... thing you sent back." After seeing him nod, Aunt Diana looked over at Hermione. "Hermione dear, your parents are currently busy, but they'll be picking you up from our house later."

"Oh. Thanks very much." Hermione blushed slightly.

"Well come on, let's get going, shall we?" Uncle John helped them load their trunks onto a trolley.

_This isn't good... She'll find out about the other trunk of books... _Harry worried about it as he got into the car.

The ride home was filled with uncomfortable questions that Harry had no choice but to answer, though Hermione helped him out by playing along in concealing some of the more alarming details.

"Safest place in Britain!" Uncle John exclaimed. "How can it be safe when there's a giant snake going around the place!? What were the teachers doing?"

Harry exchanged looks with his female friend. "You know, that does raise a few questions. It seemed like I was making all of the discoveries related to the Chamber."

"And that Lockhart!" Hermione huffed angrily. "I can't believe he was a fraud! And don't say it!" She directed that last comment at Harry, who was smiling.

_Told you so. _Harry thought, complying with that order. _It looks like her teacher worship is finally broken._

Archer suddenly spoke up. _Harry, this might be a chance. _

_A chance? For what?_

Archer quickly outlined his idea, and Harry realized that the spirit made a rather good suggestion.

"You know," Harry put on a thoughtful tone. "What if we had a sort of parents association made up of non-magical parents?"

"What would that do, Harry?" Hermione asked him, but the adults were silent.

Aunt Diana finally spoke. "That's actually quite a good idea. God knows how much I would worry otherwise."

"How many other parents do you know, Harry?" Uncle John asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

Harry glanced at Hermione while counting off his fingers. "Dean Thomas, Colin Creevey, Justin Finch-Fletchey..." He trailed off.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and began listing off several other names that Harry only vaguely recognized. After a bit of discussion, plans were made to contact those families to get their opinion of the idea.

When they arrived at the house, Harry went ahead of Hermione to get to his room first. Greeting Ilya, he snagged the shrunken trunk off the desk and put it with his magecraft books, and renewed the bounded field over them. However, when he checked the closet, he didn't find any new books.

_Guess I can't be that lucky..._

_It's better if you have less to do with Zelretch, Harry. That man is trouble._

Hermione helped him unpack some of his things, and later joined them for dinner before her parents came to pick her up. The Grangers were interested by the idea of a parents association, and agreed to try and work with the others to develop it.

The next morning, Harry was curled up reading his translation of Slytherin's journal after an intense morning workout followed by a shower and some breakfast. The journal itself was under several protections he himself raised, after his translation spell finished transcribing its contents over to a thick stack of papers in English. He barely finished the first page when there was a knock at the door.

"One moment!" Harry put away the papers in a box, locking it.

When he opened the door, Amelia Bones was standing there. While she was still dressed in traditional wizarding robes, Harry was somewhat pleased to see that she left out the odd-looking hat of that attire, revealing a bun that matched McGonagall's. Harry invited her in and served her tea, before taking a seat across from her.

She immediately went for the heart of the matter. "Susan has told me most of the details, and I confess that I have received no notice from her regarding this Basilisk. May I trouble you to repeat the details regarding the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry repeated the account he gave the school, occasionally letting Archer take control in order to avoid arousing Madam Bones' suspicions; her gaze seemed to be searching him for any hint of a lie, making Harry feel a little nervous, though he showed no outward signs. When Harry finished speaking, she requested to see the Basilisk eye, which he retrieved from its storage place. He waited while she examined it through her monocle, a slight piercing smell indicating the use of magic on the small lens.

"That bloody old goat." She muttered as she straightened up. "Well, Mr Potter, what will you do now?"

"Keep things quiet while I prepare. I've been reading up on history, Madam Bones." Harry replied, meeting her gaze for gaze. "Tom Riddle's reputation already has most of Wizarding Britain in fear even after his supposed death, and with the typical attitude of its citizens, they would deny any suggestions of his return. And that's not mentioning the obvious corruption."

Madam Bones nodded. "Very true. I assume you're referring to certain members of our society who pled the Imperius Curse?"

Harry nodded back. "There's also something else you should know. Voldemort isn't really dead."

To her credit, Madam Bones didn't flinch like nearly every other wizard who heard the name, but she paled slightly. "How do you know this?"

Harry didn't need Archer to see that this was a person he could trust in a sense. "I met him at the end of my first year." He quickly described the experience of facing Quirrellmort, followed by a short explanation of the events revolving around the Philosopher's Stone.

Madam Bones was looking increasingly incensed as he spilled several unknown truths to her. When she took a drink of her tea following the conclusion of his tale, her hand was trembling with repressed rage.

"He knew. He knew all this while, and didn't see fit to inform us." She spoke in a deadly whisper.

"He claimed it was because of those who went free. Didn't want to risk them knowing."

Madam Bones nodded. "It is a valid point. But to keep it all to himself..."

Harry snorted. "Join the club. I asked him why Riddle came after me in the first place, and he said some stuff about me being too young to know. Face it, Dumbledore likes keeping his secrets."

_He plays a dangerous game. By the way, Harry, regarding the diary... _Archer reminded.

"Oh, and while I can't really prove it, I think it was Lucius Malfoy who planted the diary." Harry shared the clues he found out, even going so far as to tell her that it was Ginny who originally carried the diary. He had a feeling he could trust her.

"I see. Yes, Malfoy had an agenda in doing so." Madam Bones blinked at Harry. "Do you know Arthur Weasley had recently proposed a Muggle Protection Act? If his daughter had been the one found attacking Muggleborns, it would certainly have been rejected."

"Politics." Harry said in disgust.

"I have my own dislike for it as well, but it is necessary." Her tone was slightly amused, before it shifted back to seriousness. "May I ask what sort of preparations do you intend to make?"

"Actually, I have no idea." Harry admitted. "I'm still a kid, and I don't really know that much about magic or politics. I can read up on them, but reading only goes so far."

Madam Bones looked at him approvingly. "It is good to see that you know your limits. As you're still not of age in the magical world, you will not have to deal directly with politics for a while."

_But indirect is a different matter. _Archer guessed.

"However, as the Boy-Who-Lived, you hold a great deal of power. Your support can be the force that tips the scales." The woman continued, confirming Archer's statement.

Harry couldn't repress the growl that escaped. He hated being manipulated for other people's purposes.

"You might not like it, but it is an undeniable fact." Madam Bones said sharply.

"I know. I just... how can I prevent myself from being used in the agenda of others?" Harry asked.

"Gather your own allies and strengthen yourself. I hear you've built up quite a group of followers in Hogwarts already."

"They're my friends, not my followers." Harry corrected her.

"They follow you, don't they? And most of them are connected to influential people."

_She's right, Harry. Without realizing it, you managed to get some political power for yourself. _Archer added. _But you need to know how to use it._

"Okay." Harry eyed the woman in front of him, then sighed. _I wish I didn't have to deal with this. But Archer's got a point. _"Then what should I do to make use of what I've got?"

"Are you asking me to be your tutor?" Madam Bones asked archly. The term 'tutor' appeared to have several connotations.

Harry scrutinized the witch carefully; trusting her with the knowledge of Voldemort's revival wasn't the same as relying on her to learn the ins and outs of British wizarding politics. While he trusted Susan to an extent, he didn't really know enough about Amelia Bones apart from the fact that she was the one to raise his Hufflepuff friend, and the post she held in the Ministry of Magic. Other than that, he had no idea what was her political stance or anything that was related to that.

In the end, Harry chose to keep his options open, while making arrangements to keep in touch with her. Madam Bones agreed to start discreet investigations into Voldemort's location, and promised to keep him updated, unlike 'a certain meddling old wizard'.

Just as she was walking out the door, Harry recalled something else, and called out to her. "Madam Bones!"

She turned around to face him. "Yes, was there something else?"

"What do you know about Sirius Black's case?"

* * *

Finally an update after a month! I took a break due to my exams, and when I came back, it was hard to get into my writing muse. I was jumping back and forth on this chapter, wondering which scene should I describe properly, et cetera. I'm glad to finally get this done with. A cliffhanger end to the events of Book 2, compared to the canon one of where the trio just walked through the gateway back into the Muggle world, blah blah blah...

On a side note, while I might enjoy reading some of those politics-themed fanfics, writing one is rather hard for me. To be honest, I think I can understand why Books 4 to 7 suddenly became so damn thick; Harry grew up and had to deal with a whole load more shit. That also explains all the angst. Ugh. Anyway, it made me wonder about where I intend to go with this fanfic. I've read quite a number of HP fanfics, and I seriously doubt that my Harry will be the political or manipulative type. Yes, he will deal with those parts a little, but mainly he's going to be a frontline fighter. The only problem I see is having me keep the balance. I'd appreciate ideas to help in that area.

Some of you should already realize that I'm borrowing from another series regarding Harry's version of Jewel Magecraft. I'll say it right here that I don't own that idea, since it originates for Katekyo Hitman Reborn, but I'm sure as hell going to work it into his abilities. Box weapons... *drools* Still haven't revealed what Mystic Eye ability Harry received, but in case some of you missed it, he did NOT get Mystic Eyes of Binding or Death Perception. The physical powerup he received just came about due to my muse in writing, but as I said, I don't want a super!Harry like that, so I'll try to establish a Harry who actually does his best to apply those powers in a smart way.

As for my intentions for Book 3... It's going to really deviate from canon, that's all I'm going to say. As for my other fics... who knows?


	25. First Enchantment

**...I've finally found it. The reason why a serpent is born from the incubation of a chicken egg beneath a toad. The cycle of the chicken and egg is disrupted by the presence of a toad, and a Basilisk comes about as part of magic's endeavor to correct that disruption, as toads are the prey of snakes.**

_Well, that does explain things, I suppose. _Harry thought as he read the translation of Slytherin's journal listing his experiments with his own Basilisk. _This is actually made stronger by the strength of faith in this mystery. With more people believing in the chicken and egg cycle, the resultant destabilization is more powerful, which is why the Basilisk has so much magical power in it. I bet when Herpo the Foul first did it, a Basilisk wasn't that powerful._

He flipped to the next part.

**Because of this chaotic mix, a Basilisk is highly magical. My belief was that this high level of magic is the cause behind its deadly gaze, and my first few tests prove me right. When a creature is exposed to the Basilisk's look through lenses charmed to filter magic, they do not die, but assume a Petrified state. The question then is why. Why does a magic that induces death at full strength results in petrification when reduced? The dead creatures do not get Petrified, even in death. So why?**

Harry read on, intrigued by the path of knowledge Salazar Slytherin had pursued. Given the events of his second year, he was curious to find out just what Slytherin knew about that phenomenon.

**When I increased the level of filtering, the result is astounding. The creatures are empowered by the Basilisk's stare instead! Even a simple rat becomes strong enough to bend the narrow bars of its iron cage, although it incurs injuries in doing so. I must find a way to harness this discovery!**

_This explains how you moved faster during the Quidditch match. _Archer commented, also reading through Harry's eyes.

_Only partially, it seems. It hasn't happened again either. Look at the next part. Nearly every creature he treated with it died later on. They couldn't control the influx of prana properly, I'm guessing. _Harry replied, turning the page. _And besides, mine only works when I'm stressed or experiencing adrenaline._

He continued to read, eventually reaching another interesting section.

**Of course! How could I not have seen it! Snakes are the answer, because the Basilisk is a snake. The adder is thriving right now, and I am hard pressed to keep it under control. Unrelated creatures are unable to control this power, which is why they eventually die. This is Parselmagic, no doubt. The question is: Can my Parseltongue ability prove enough of a relation for me to survive?**

Harry frowned, and flipped back to the earlier sections where Slytherin was busy researching his own Parseltongue abilities. Besides the typical ability to converse with serpents of any kind, Slytherin was able to utilize snakes as his wand, although overuse would cause the serpent damage, which could result in its death in some cases. When Harry first read about it, he thought the description was remarkably similar to magic circuits. It made him wonder if being a Parselmouth allowed one to utilize snakes as magic circuits, which led Archer to describe the magecraft of a family known as the Makiri, which had worms as a living Thaumaturgical Crest. Harry had a nightmare that night.

After confirming that part of Slytherin's notes, Harry returned back to where he was earlier and continued reading.

**A setback! While my body and magic are empowered by the Basilisk, the enhancement is only temporary. Being human is too much of a gap to retain the Parselmagic, as the adder continues to stay as strong as ever.**

The following entries that discussed the effects of implanting snakes within Slytherin's body sickened Harry. He was sure that the process was documented somewhere in the books and scrolls that still remained in the Chamber of Secrets, and started to dread coming across it in the future. Reading ahead, it appeared that the process had an effect on Slytherin's mind, as his writing grew increasingly wilder, culminating in his leaving the castle after a fight with Gryffindor.

_Don't mess with the body you've got, got it. _Harry thought, putting away the papers once he was done. _I don't feel any different, do I?_

_You're still as childish as ever. _

Harry made a face. _I'm not going to fall for that obvious baiting. You've used that line enough times already._

_Hn. _Archer grunted. _Anyway, you should get out a little. Staying indoors so much isn't good for you._

Harry stretched and nodded; his body was a bit stiff after all the research he had conducted. Changing into running clothes, he went out for a jog.

It was a week since he returned from his second year at Hogwarts, and Harry had been busy. He finished all his homework in the first three days, even the rather boring History essay about the pointlessness of the fourteenth century witch burnings (He still had no idea how a ghost as immaterial as Binns could mark essays), and threw his entire self into trying to understand the effects of the magical flames, suspending his studying of Alchemy and magecraft for the time being. He first went through several preparations such as modifying the monitoring wards and overlaying a bounded field over his house to prevent any outside influence before he began. Using all manner of items ranging from living plants to Traced swords, Harry tried to see what would happen upon exposure to the seven flames.

The red flame destroyed. That was simple enough. Anything Harry exposed to it was steadily eaten away until only dust remained, and in cases of Reinforced items, the prana was consumed first, before the vessel itself was affected. In the case of a Traced sword, the material was eaten away until the damage proved to be too much for the structure to be sustained. The only things that remained unaffected were the array he was using to pump prana into the ruby, and the ruby itself.

The yellow flame energized. When Harry applied the sparkling fire to a cut sprig from a plant, the buds on it began to grow, only stopping due to a lack of nutrients to sustain the growth. It also exhibited an effect like Reinforcement, but not to the full extent of the real thing. When he tested two Traced blades on each other with one augmented by the yellow fire, the augmented one cut better, although Harry was unclear as to just how it functioned. It was clearly meant for support unlike the red flame that was meant for offense.

The green flame that sparked like electricity enhanced the tested objects in a different manner compared to the yellow one; if the yellow flame improved the inner workings, the green one improved the outer. The differences were most easily observed in the block of wood, as the yellow fire apparently didn't have the same hardening effect as the green fire did. It was confusing for Harry, seeing the effects of Reinforcement divided among the two.

If the yellow flame strengthened, then the blue flame weakened in a sense. Harry was amazed to discover that the rippling blue energy could actually affect gravity, when the block of wood he dropped slowed down noticeably under its effects. When he took a risk and exposed his hand to the blue flame, the limb experienced weakness and difficulty in movement.

He still could not figure out the effects of the orange, indigo and purple flames, although he had a theory about the last one.

The other problem was that in order to achieve any of the seven, he needed a proper array to channel prana _through _the gem rather than simply filling it up the way conventional Jewel Magecraft was supposed to do.

Calling out greetings to his neighbors as he passed by, Harry mused over that issue. _Step by step, Harry, step by step..._

_You've gotten a little weaker from the lack of exercise. _Archer observed.

Harry pushed himself to go a little faster. _Then I'll just have to correct that, won't I?_

He cleared his mind of any thought regarding Jewel Magecraft for the moment, and focused on getting his body back into its former shape.

Much later, as he was working on preparing dinner, the relaxation the task afforded him gave Harry the insight he needed. He rushed through the rest of the work, and bolted down the meal as fast as he could before rushing back to his room to start drafting out a plan on paper.

Harry's final plan involved the harnessing of the energies to empower himself in some way, but first he had to work on producing them in an effective manner. So far, based on his experiments with gemstones of various types, the cut of the gem affected the quality of the flame; those produced by a rough gemstone were almost always weaker compared to those from a polished jewel, in both quality and quantity. It also determined the level of stress a stone could withstand, and Harry was dreading the costs of his research in the future.

_I need to invent some more things to sell... _Harry paused in his writing to scribble 'Invent more stuff' in his book of things to do. _Maybe if I copy some of the mundane stuff that wizards ignore..._

Returning to his research, Harry saw that he could break down the flame creation process into the gem itself and array, which he now had to develop into the form of a ring. However, that was harder than it looked; the traditional charging array he used involved pumping prana into a central circle design, which funneled the energy into the object placed within while preventing any from escaping. In contrast, a ring would have to draw energy outwards from the object in the center, which would be his finger, and channel it into the gemstone that was perpendicular to the loop. Besides going from two-dimensional to three-dimensional, the formulas required in the array would be totally different.

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his left eye. He had finally discovered the ability of his Mystic Eye just two days ago. When he had reviewed the memory of meeting the Basilisk's gaze, he realized that the prana influx had followed the path of his magic circuit, the one he had created through Alchemy, before forging the new one in his eye. The result was that he could now work Alchemy through a single look, provided he had the proper array in mind. However, it had its weaknesses; in addition to the typical overloading of the magic circuit, which actually pained him much more than the usual type, the eye took time to activate, and he couldn't use it repeatedly within a short time frame, making it unsuitable for combat.

Opening his left eye, Harry channeled prana through the magic circuit and stared at the small stone he had picked up off the ground. It shifted apart with the flare of blue lightning that accompanied any Alchemical process, and a tiny hoop formed in the center of that gap. Shutting off the flow, Harry picked up the ring and began examining it. There was a bit of flaking on the surface, typical of Alchemy, but on the whole it was perfectly usable as a model.

Then he sat back. In order to continue, he needed knowledge on the right runes and symbols to use. _Maybe I should go to Diagon Alley to see if they've got anything useful..._

Putting aside his Jewel Magecraft notes for the time being, Harry returned to Slytherin's journal. He didn't have any way of proving it, but something told him that there were two things required to contain the boost from the Basilisk. One was obviously a relation to Parselmagic, the other was most likely a magic circuit, which Slytherin apparently lacked and tried to make up for by implanting snakes within himself.

Harry shuddered and put it away again. The thought of mutilating yourself just for more power was disgusting to him.

"Harry." He turned to see his foster mother standing at the door.

"Yes, Aunt Diana?"

"I kept forgetting to inform you about this, but we were planning to go on vacation overseas during the summer. We thought you'd want to stay here, but the airline informed us that someone else cancelled, so would you like to come or stay with Hermione and her family?"

Harry blinked. The idea of going on vacation was alien to him, since the Dursleys never brought him with them when they did, leaving him instead with Mrs Figg and her cats. "Vacation where?"

"Japan. John has a friend there who's willing to put us up."

Archer perked up at the name of his home country.

"You know how to speak Japanese?" Harry asked her.

"Only a few phrases. John's the one who knows. Why, are you interested?"

"You bet I am." Harry grinned. "When do we leave?"

Diana smiled at him. "In a week's time. I'll get more details from John for you later."

After she left, Archer asked, _Not that I'm not glad to have a chance to visit Japan, but what's gotten you so excited, Harry?_

_This might be a chance to learn magic from a different country. _Harry was already planning his own itinerary. _Need to see if Diagon Alley has any information... ask around... maybe Madam Bones knows..._

While Harry got to writing down his ideas, Archer had noticed that there was something suspicious about how Harry's foster parents _conveniently _forgotten about informing their son about their travel ideas, and was pondering it. However, seeing the boy's mood, he decided to keep silent for the time being while he observed further.

* * *

Harry looked around the room as he walked in behind his foster parents. He knew the Finch-Fletchleys were rich, but he didn't know just how much until now. Just this dining room was already furnished extravagantly, and he couldn't resist analyzing the furniture to see how well they were made. There were valuable paintings on the walls, and Harry was sure that the vase on the table was worth more than his foster parents' car.

This was a gathering of all the families of the mundane-born parents, organized by Harry and Justin working together. Looking around, he could see five other families apart from his, the hosts, and the Grangers.

Harry took a seat next to Hermione. "Hi." He murmured.

"Hi, yourself." She smiled at him. "I'm surprised at how many turned up."

_They send their only children off to a boarding school for nine months out of a year. Of course they'll be concerned to know about what happens. _Archer snarked.

_Well, aren't you sensitive today... _Harry replied, but relayed the words to Hermione.

"Very true." Mrs Granger said firmly, having overheard. "Just because you have magic doesn't mean you're not my daughter."

"Mom!" An embarrassed Hermione cried, even as those who overheard hid smiles or chuckled out loud.

After the grandfather clock in the corner hit two, the man in a business suit at the head of the table stood up and cleared his throat. "Hello to all of you, I'm Thomas Finch-Fletchley, and I would like to welcome all of you here today."

He looked around at all the people present, parents and children alike. "The one thing we all have in common is that a member of our family is attending a magical school known as Hogwarts. However, as it is a boarding school, us parents will be missing out on a large part of our child's life as he or she grows up. By inviting all of you here, I hope to establish a group where we can help one another in order to help our children succeed, no matter what obstacles they face. Thank you."

There was a brief round of applause, and Mr Finch-Fletchley sat down to let other parents speak their piece. Harry was only half-listening, instead chatting away with Archer about how he should keep up his training while he was in Japan. He did a convincing job of pretending that not even Hermione noticed, appearing so engrossed that he nearly missed his cue.

_...and it looks like it's your turn to speak. _Archer suddenly said.

_What? _Harry looked around to see everyone's attention on him. "Oh. Sorry." He stood up and quickly tried to recall what was the current topic.

_Your intention to continue normal schooling while at Hogwarts. _Archer supplied.

_Thanks. _"Hello, my name is Harry Potter. I first learned I had magic when I received my Hogwarts letter. Imagine my surprise when I found out that I was famous in the magical world for surviving what everyone else could not. Sometimes, I feel like one of those unknown princes in fairytales that were raised in obscurity."

_Don't go off topic. _Archer reminded him.

"But I would like to say that while magic is fascinating, it isn't enough to make me want to give up the non-magical aspect of my life. I started an unofficial Science Club in Hogwarts, and we learned quite a number of things, physics, chemistry, biology... those are just as interesting as magic in their own way. In fact, I would like to continue learning them, and maybe one day, go to a university. Thank you." Harry sat down as they clapped for him, the adults with considerably more enthusiasm than their children.

Hermione was beaming at him. Out of all the children there, she was the one that identified with his words the most, because of her love for learning. Harry was confident she would jump at the chance to learn whatever she could, and when she stood up to speak later, it only served to confirm his impression of her.

_She's still a bit abrasive in character though... _Harry thought as he watched his friend.

After everyone had their turn at speaking, they were led to a hall where a buffet was prepared. Harry loaded up a plate and sat at a table with Justin and the rest of the children.

"This was a spiffing good idea of yours, Harry!" Justin spoke as they ate. "This way, Mother won't be so disappointed about me not going to Eton."

"I'm not really keen on this. It's so much work." Kevin Entwhistle complained.

"Aren't you a Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked him.

"Aren't you a Gryffindor?" Kevin shot back.

"Enough, you two." Harry interrupted. "And Colin, ask permission before you take photos."

"Sorry Harry!" The excitable kid piped up, pushing his camera beneath the table. "May I take photos of your house, Justin?"

"Sure, go ahead." Justin said grandly.

"Great!" Colin dashed away, heading for one of the paintings in the room.

"By the way, how are you feeling after... you know." Hermione asked the Hufflepuff.

"Pretty good, actually. I've got quite a bit to catch up on, but Flitwick or McGonagall comes by once in a while to tutor me."

"Does that mean you're allowed to use magic?"

"Yes," He said brightly, "My parents were so amazed, let me tell you! They really liked seeing me perform spells in front of them, even if I wasn't always successful."

Hermione looked jealous of Justin being allowed to use magic over the summer holidays, and she wasn't the only one. Harry, having gotten around the restriction through the use of his bounded fields, didn't show any change in expression and continued eating instead.

"Wow, you're lucky." Dean Thomas said, munching on a sausage. "You know, I never really understood why the Statute of Secrecy doesn't allow us to use magic at home."

"It's-" Hermione started, but stopped when Harry kicked her under the table, shaking his head slightly when she looked at him.

"I mean, it's our home, right? What about privacy and all that? As long as no one's around to be seen, it's okay, isn't it?" Dean continued.

There was a surprising amount of agreement from the other mundane-borns, prompting Hermione to give Harry a look of understanding and thanks.

_It's not her bookworm side that's keeping her from making friends, it's her bossy personality. _Harry thought as he continued to listen to the others talk.

They began discussing the electives they were going to take in their third year, and the reasons they had for taking what each of them did was rather interesting to hear. It ranged from just to see what the subject was like to actually intending to pursue a career involving it.

"You know, I wouldn't mind going into the security business." Harry said thoughtfully as the others watched him. "Warding sounds like an interesting career, and imagine if we combine that with non-magical tools."

"But electronic locks won't work with magic." objected Hermione.

"I think that's only at Hogwarts. You don't see any problem around Diagon Alley, do you?" Harry countered, causing the others to nod.

Kevin picked that moment to interrupt. "Actually, anyone here thinks that the wizards are a bit... backward?"

Harry raised his hand slightly. Seeing that, a few others did as well. Hermione appeared torn as to whether to agree or not.

However, before they could discuss it further, Mr Finch-Fletchley called the adults back to the dining room, leaving the children to do what they wanted. Justin took on the role of the host, and began showing them around his mansion. It was clear that the Finch-Fletchleys had a long ancestry, and each generation just added to the wealth they already had.

_It is an issue, isn't it, Archer? _Harry thought as he followed the group.

_What is?_

_Wizarding society being backwards. Remember the information control by the Ministry? I wonder just how much they've covered up. _Harry hummed thoughtfully as he looked at a particularly impressive art piece of people by a lake.

_I'm sure you could ask Madam Bones, but I'm quite sure sexism is one of them._

_Huh. _Harry wasn't really that familiar with the term, but he at least knew what it meant. _I'll ask her about it the next time I see her._

_By the way, you noticed it, didn't you? The bounded field._

Harry blinked, then glanced out the window. _Yeah, it covers quite a large area. The same magic detection field that's around my neighborhood too. Except mine has all the fancy protection stuff that's probably Dumbledore's work._

_Which reminds me, maybe you should get Madam Bones to look at that. He's only your school Headmaster, he shouldn't have any jurisdiction over you outside of it._

_Good idea. _Harry continued to follow the other children.

"Isn't this amazing, Harry? Just look at all these pieces of art! I never knew Justin's family owned all of this!" Hermione was gushing as she looked around.

"I didn't figure you one for the arts, Hermione." Harry said absently, then dodged as she tried to slap him on the arm. "Hey!"

"Stop teasing me." She scolded, attempting to hit him again.

"Here now. No roughhousing, please!" Justin interrupted, a frown on his face.

Hermione squeaked. "Sorry!"

She made sure to step on Harry's foot later.

By the end of the meeting, the parents exchanged contact information, and agreed to make arrangements to help their children keep up their mundane learning. Harry could tell that some of the students were thinking of careers in the wizarding world, but privately he didn't see much chance of that happening. It was one of the reasons why he worked hard at making this meeting work.

A few days ago, he had visited the Greengrasses again, and had a very enlightening conversation with Daphne's parents regarding the Pureblood discrimination. Any non-Pureblood who worked in the Ministry was unlikely to rise higher than a department secretary, and while they might make more money if they started up their own business, they usually paid more in fees and taxes, and usually lost out against a Pureblood-ran competitor. It was not very likeable, but it was enlightening.

Among other things, they also spoke about Harry's revealing of Voldemort's ancestry. Cyrus Greengrass had started investigating it discreetly, and had yet to find anything to disprove it, especially given the fact that Tom Riddle had seemingly vanished a few years after working at Borgin & Burke's, a store in Knockturn Alley. Daphne had warned Harry before, but her parents repeated it just to be safe; Harry stood a chance of being targeted for a perceived insult against the Death Eaters' Dark Lord. That night, he sent Ilya off with a letter to Madam Bones, and later found another observation ward around his house.

"-ry. Harry!" Harry jerked around and looked up at his foster mother. "It's time to go."

"Oh, okay. Bye, Hermione. Bye, Justin."

"Bye, Harry." The two of them said at the same time.

The trip back home was uneventful, with Harry asking about what the adults had talked about and his foster parents answering him. He spent the night reviewing the magecraft book on bounded fields, intending to head to Diagon Alley tomorrow.

The next morning, Uncle John dropped him off at the Leaky Cauldron on his way to work, and Harry headed right in. Thankfully, there was only two other people present that early in the morning, so Harry wasn't swarmed like he had been in his first year. Out of curiosity, he tried the bacon and eggs Tom the owner cooked, and found them pretty good, although he felt he could do better if he tried. Afterwards, he went through the archway at the back of the pub into Diagon Alley.

His money pouch was a little light, so he headed for Gringotts first. Harry walked in through the doors confidently even as the goblins behind the counters eyed him unpleasantly. Approaching the nearest one, he presented his family key and asked to visit his vault. Like before, another goblin was summoned to lead him to the carts, and Harry followed the new goblin.

"Griphook, right?" Harry asked as he settled into the seat. "You were the one who led me down here in my first time here."

"Yes." The goblin replied gruffly. "It's rare to see a wizard remember one of us, even by name."

"Even those born from non-magical families?" Harry asked in surprise as he held on tightly while the cart shot off.

He received a grin that displayed several pointed teeth. "We make them... uncomfortable."

"I see." There was a pause. "Then how do most wizards treat you?"

"They ignore us, of course. Hardly any of your Purebloods deign to speak to us more than they have to." Griphook's tone was derisive. "We're here."

The cart pulled to a stop, and Harry handed his key over for Griphook to open the door with. He stood back and analyzed the locking mechanism, fascinated to see the combination of mechanics and magic.

_Interested in making your own? _Archer said, sensing Harry's thoughts.

_A bit. _Harry admitted as he went in to gather money for his shopping trip.

On the trip back to the surface, he asked Griphook about other services provided by the goblins, and was told that he could approach the tellers for warding, curse breaking, and item renting.

"Item renting?"

"All goblin-made objects are the property of their creators. Wizards," Harry did his best not to bristle at the implied insult in Griphook's sneer. "May only rent them, not outright buy like so many of your kind thinks they can."

_I didn't learn this in History. _Harry thought in annoyance. "Well, thank you for telling me about that."

"No thanks is needed. It is something you should have known if not for the arrogance of those before you." Griphook stopped the cart and gestured for him to get off without a word.

_That goblin really grates on my nerves... _Harry thought as he left the bank, nodding to the goblins who looked at him.

He headed for Flourish & Blott's first.

"Harry Potter, what brings you to my store?" The manager greeted him with a bit of friendly awe. "The Hogwarts booklists shouldn't be out yet, so you must be here for a bit of self-reading?"

"Yes, actually I put my name down for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Do you have anything for those?"

"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy..." The man nodded. "Well, they haven't changed teachers for the last five years, so the textbooks should be the same. Here, follow me."

Harry picked up a basket and trailed after the manager. He was given **Ancient Runes Made Easy**, **Rune Dictionary**, and **Spellman's Syllabary **for Ancient Runes, and **Numerology and Grammatica** for Arithmancy.

"Ancient Runes is actually simpler to use than Arithmancy, let me tell you. Anyone can copy runes to get the basic effect, but you need a special insight in order to truly use Arithmancy in magic." The manager explained to Harry. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Got any travel guides? I'm going to Japan for a holiday, and I'd like to know what places are there for magical tourists."

"I'm sorry to say that we don't have anything of that sort. But Wayfarer's Delights should have what you want." He gave Harry directions to the shop.

Harry nodded. "I'm also interested in warding. What books do you have on that?"

"Warding? That's far above your level, Mr Potter. It needs NEWTs in Charms, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy. In fact, most wizards your age would be asking for books that show how to cast powerful spells and curses."

"Most wizards my age haven't lost their parents because they weren't behind proper protections." Harry replied coldly.

The man quickly changed his tack. "I'm sorry, Mr Potter, that was insensitive of me. Of course you have a personal interest in that field. The books on warding are right this way."

_No shame in playing up your tragic life story, Harry? _Archer said dryly later, as Harry was leaving the store with his purchases in a bag.

_None. _Harry replied cheerfully.

He turned down a side alley and saw the store sign showing the image of a sextant overlaid over a ship. Entering it, he heard a bell ring, and a pleasant-looking young man came out from the back of the store. As Harry expected, he was instantly recognized.

"Harry Potter?"

"That's me. This is the store for those interested in visiting other magical countries, right?"

"That's right." The young man confirmed. "My father traveled quite a lot when he was younger, and wanted to share it with others, which was why he opened this shop. We don't really get that much business, actually."

_I'm interested to see what sort of magic is used in Japan. _Archer commented, which was rare for the spirit.

"So, what can I interest you in?" The shopkeeper asked, leaning on his counter. "I've got some jewelry from the Middle East, a genuine tomahawk from America, some good luck charms from Japan-"

"I'm going to Japan." Harry interrupted.

The young man paused, surprised. "Oh, you are? Muggle or magical?"

Harry was confused at first, until Archer explained what the other person was asking.

"If you're asking about the method of travel, it's the former."

"One moment." The man ducked under the counter, then came up with a small book. "A travel guide written by my father. It's a bit outdated though."

"How outdated?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"By about six, seven years ago. Shouldn't be too bad. In fact, most of the magical sites are hidden alongside the shrines. If you're visiting those, then you shouldn't have any problems."

"How much for the guide?"

"One Galleon, ten Sickles."

Harry paid up, and tucked the small tome in with the rest of the books. Just as he turned to leave, he asked the man, "What's your name?"

"Stanley. Stanley Eriksson. Have a nice day, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded back. "Same to you."

As Harry was heading back to the Leaky Cauldron so he could take a taxi back home (He didn't want to risk its location being known with Voldemort's Death Eaters possibly gunning for him), he noticed several pieces of Harry Potter merchandise being sold.

_You know, I've completely forgot about those. _Harry remarked, pausing to glare at the fiction books and tiny dolls of him. _Surely there's got to be some law against the use of my name to sell stuff like that, right?_

_I wouldn't know. _Archer replied blandly. _Perhaps you should read up on the laws._

_Or I could go one better and just ask Madam Bones directly._

_Or you could do that. _Archer agreed.

* * *

From the outside, Bones Manor was rather forbidding, with its grey walls and black tiled roof. Harry repressed a shiver as he walked down the path leading to the front door; the atmosphere and the strength of the bounded fields he was passing through both worked together to intimidate him. He could feel the defenses locking on to him, ready to activate at the owner's signal should he prove to be an enemy.

He knocked on the large oak doors, and it opened on the third knock to reveal Susan, wearing a plain cream dress with her hair let down around her face and a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Hi, Susan. Thanks for having me over."

"Oh, it was no trouble. Come on in." The girl stepped aside so he could enter.

The inside was decorated in a much warmer fashion compared to the outside, and Harry felt a bit of tension he didn't know he had leaving him, as he saw the moving paintings of what must be Bones family members trying to get a look at him. Some of them appeared to be speculating about the relationship between him and Susan, which would explain why the girl had trouble meeting his eyes.

Harry could also feel some of the targeting vanishing with the invitation to enter the place, but others still remained. _I wonder if..._

_Better not. _Archer interrupted the thought. _You might end up triggering it if you attempt to probe._

_Yeah, _Harry admitted as he followed Susan to a sitting room where Madam Bones was. _I suppose you're right._

"Good morning, Madam Bones." He greeted the woman, who put down the parchment she was reading.

"Good morning, Mr Potter. Have a seat. Whippy." A house elf appeared at her call. "Bring some tea and snacks for Mr Potter."

"Right away, ma'am!" The house elf squeaked, popping away and returning in a second with the requested items before vanishing again.

"Thank you." Harry said politely, subconsciously analyzing his tea as he picked up the cup before he took a sip.

"Susan, could I ask you to go to your room?" Despite Madam Bones' phrasing, it was obviously not a request.

"Okay, Auntie." The girl sounded slightly disappointed, but she left nonetheless.

"What progress has there been so far?" Harry asked once his ears couldn't pick up Susan's breathing anymore.

"You were right. My Aurors have found no record of Sirius Black having a trial." Madam Bones had a fierce look of disapproval on her features. "Crouch threw him into Azkaban illegally."

"Crouch?" Harry recalled seeing the name before while he was looking up Sirius Black in the past newspapers, but he didn't know anything else.

"Bartemius Crouch. He was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before I was, and personally, an effective head during the war with You-Know-Who." Seeing Harry's questioning look, she explained, "He matched the Death Eaters in ruthlessness, authorizing the use of Unforgivables against them, and that turned the tide of the war."

"So what happened to him afterwards?"

"His son was caught with several other Death Eaters. And he threw them all into Azkaban for life. Instead of becoming Minister of Magic, Crouch was pushed aside into the Department of International Magical Cooperation instead, where he still is now."

"His son gets a trial while Black doesn't? Which one came first?"

"Black's capture. His son's capture was after the news got out of You-Know-Who's dea- I mean, disappearance." Madam Bones corrected herself, giving Harry a look that said she remembered what he told her.

"So what now? How can we push for a trial for Black? From what I know, Fudge won't go for it."

"If you were to ask for one, they shouldn't deny you."

"It's that easy?"

_You're the hero of the wizarding world. If you were to ask for justice regarding yourself, they would give it to you. _Archer explained.

"Only because it's you." Madam Bones stated. "Especially since you have a connection to Black."

Harry nodded, showing his understanding. Then he frowned. "But if he really is innocent... would they really accept that?"

Madam Bones' face was impassive. "I cannot say for sure. It would be best if we had concrete evidence proving his innocence, but..." She picked up a folder from the stacks of documents on the table and held it out to him. "This is everything I've gathered regarding Sirius Black's case. Take a look at it and tell me what you think."

Harry took the folder and began looking through it. Sirius Black was found laughing maniacally at the site of a huge explosion in a city street by several Aurors and wizards, including one Cornelius Fudge, and he was saying that he had killed the Potters, which must have been taken as a confession. He noticed that there wasn't much information on the dead mundanes apart from the number of them, which was twelve, but Harry read between the lines that described their deaths; most of them died from the force of the explosion, which ripped a huge crater in the ground and blew off several limbs from some of them. It was believed that only a single curse was responsible for all the destruction, one that only someone from the infamous Black family would know, according to the person writing up the report.

_Unknown spell... There's no information regarding the distance each of the victims were from the site of the explosion... _Archer was thinking hard as well. _There's still quite a lot missing..._

Harry flipped over to the eyewitness accounts. According to them, Pettigrew had shouted out that Black had betrayed the Potters before the explosion occurred. He frowned when he noticed that the information he was expecting in the earlier report was present here. It was a busy city street, so there was quite a number of people about when the incident occurred.

_That's probably due to the lack of proper forensics. But with the way you can erase the evidence with magic, it's not surprising. _Archer pointed out.

_This is problematic... _Harry frowned, looking over the photo of the scene. _But it's suspicious, any explosion wouldn't cause full vaporization. I recall reading about it in those science books. And given the size of the crater, it's just not possible for something as light as a finger to be left so close._

He flipped to the next photo, a close-up of the finger itself. Both boy and spirit noticed it right away.

_That is..._

_Most definitely NOT something that was blown off. _Archer completed, as they looked at the clean edge that the digit had.

Harry closed the file as there wasn't anything left to see, and thought. From what those he asked at Hogwarts told him, James Potter and Sirius Black were as thick as thieves in their troublemaking. One betraying the other was very unlikely. He didn't know much about Peter Pettigrew apart from the fact that he was in a group with the two and one other, but the way the man declared it was Sirius's fault just seemed suspicious, especially given the finger they found. If only one curse was used like it was believed, then there should have been more of Pettigrew to find...

_If he was truly dead. _Harry realized. _That means... he's not dead. Pettigrew is alive!_

Archer didn't say anything, but he was pleased that his host managed to reason it out without his prompting.

Armed with that conclusion, Harry continued thinking. If Pettigrew really was alive, then why hadn't he come forward before? He had received a posthumous Order of Merlin for his actions in exposing the traitor Sirius Black. The only answer was that he was hiding, but from what? Twelve years was too long a time to stay hidden, and it only created more questions. Questions that could be found only through one way.

Harry looked at Madam Bones. "So, where should we start looking for Peter Pettigrew?"

"You think he's alive?" Her tone showed she wasn't surprised by the conclusion he arrived at.

Harry nodded. "This whole scene reeks of a setup."

Madam Bones took a drink of her cooling tea. "That was my thought as well. Unfortunately, most of the evidence will be gone by now, which is why reopening this case will be very difficult."

"What about Sirius Black? I heard that Azkaban usually drives its inmates insane, because of the Dementors."

"That is correct. Surprisingly, Black shows a large degree of lucidity, which is unheard of for someone who has been in there as long as he has." She passed him another folder.

Reading it, Harry saw that it was a recent report written by one Nymphadora Tonks on the condition of the prisoner Sirius Black. It stated that the man's mental state was surprisingly well, able to banter with the Auror a little. He noticed that this Tonks was the daughter of the cousin of Sirius Black, one of the things the man teased her about.

"Is that possible?" Harry asked. "I don't really know much about Dementors, but seeing as he's a unique case, there's got to be a reason for that, isn't there?"

"You have a point. I'm currently taking measures to have Black moved out of his cell to a place where he can be questioned on what he knows. Perhaps he might have some useful information."

Harry was silent, and Archer picked that moment to speak. _There's nothing else you can do, Harry. Just let her do her job for the time being._

The boy finally nodded. "Okay. Is there anything else I should know?"

"No. Why?"

Harry reached into the bag he brought with him and pulled out a Harry Potter book, which had a scrap of parchment stuck in one of the pages. He opened it up to that page and passed it to Madam Bones, who took it with raised brows. She read what he wrote on the parchment, and looked up at him.

"I thought you never minded this."

"I didn't know I was famous until I first entered Diagon Alley. I had other things on my mind then."

"There's not much I can help you in with regards to this. You need a barrister."

_Guessed as much. _"Do you have anyone you would recommend?"

The woman nodded. "I have a few. Would I be correct in assuming you don't want anyone connected to either Dumbledore or certain members of our society who were found innocent of their deeds?"

_She must be very used to her job if she refers to those people like that. _Archer observed. _But she's right, if Dumbledore was the one who encouraged the stories, it would be better not to use any lawyer connected to him._

_Yeah... _Harry agreed. "That would be good." He replied.

"Then I believe I have the perfect person for you. Andromeda Tonks nee Black." (1)

"Tonks?" Harry frowned. "Isn't that-"

"Yes, Nymphadora Tonks is her daughter. The woman herself is good at her job, I can assure you." Madam Bones turned the parchment over and tapped it with her wand, which she produced from a sleeve. "Here," She handed it back, with an address printed on it. "This is the address of her office. She handles law on the magical side while her husband takes care of those on the Muggle side, so be careful of what you say."

_What's she trying to say? _Harry wondered.

_She means, don't blab about magic to those who aren't in the know. _Archer translated.

_Oh. _"Understood. One more thing..." Harry waited until Madam Bones gave him a look to continue. "I'll be going to Japan for vacation tomorrow, and won't be back for about two weeks."

Since there wasn't anything else to discuss, Harry went to spend some time with Susan. Her room was rather girlish, but that was what he expected, from the pink bed and fluffy animals to the Hollyhead Harpies Quidditch poster. He did frown when he saw some of the Harry Potter books on her bookshelf, but hid it quickly when she turned to look at him.

Harry also spotted a picture on her bed stand, one that showed two adults he didn't recognize waving up at him. "Is that...?"

Susan smiled sadly. "My dad and mom."

"I'm sorry." Harry apologized. "Did you get to know them?"

She shook her head, not saying anything.

_Just like me... _Harry thought morosely. _But at least she had a good upbringing... _He repressed the surge of anger he felt at the thought of the Dursleys.

He could also sense Archer's slight disappointment, and knew why the spirit was feeling that way; no matter how much he tried, his treatment at the Dursleys' hands was always a sore issue for him.

"Auntie was the one who raised me, you know? Even though she was so busy with her job, she never said I was a burden on her." Susan remarked, turning to look at him. "What about you?"

"Me? Uhh... Actually, I went to my aunt on my mother's side first, but... it wasn't really good for me." Harry's face darkened for a moment before he soldiered on. "I was placed with a foster family, and I didn't know about magic until I received my Hogwarts letter." _I knew about magecraft, though._

Susan stared at him. "Wow. I didn't know that. I mean, I knew you were Muggle-raised, but I didn't realize it was like that."

Harry frowned. "Like what?"

"Like you were so... Muggle. Didn't you have any cases of accidental magic?"

Harry thought back. "Only five or six times." _The rest of it was pretty deliberate, I have to say._

He caught her giving her Harry Potter books a quick glance, and realized that she just went through a sudden disillusionment. It was rather interesting to see her expression go through several different emotions, ranging from disappointment to longing, then finally to determination. When Susan finally looked at him again, her smile seemed a little forced, but there was some genuine emotion in it as well.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to stop being your friend. I'm not like those Purebloods who have something against Muggleborn and Squibs."

_Wait a minute... _"I never mentioned anything like that." Harry said mildly.

_She does remember that you're one of the best in learning new spells, doesn't she? _

Apparently, Susan just realized that as well, because she covered her mouth with her hands. "You know what," She mumbled, "Could we just forget about this?"

Harry couldn't help grinning; it reminded him of the times he teased Hermione. "Sure, if that's what you want."

They talked about lighter issues after that, such as their interests and what they were hoping to do in the future after leaving Hogwarts; Susan was planning on becoming a Healer, which was said to be as difficult to achieve as an Auror, while Harry still hadn't decided. Harry promised to help her study to achieve her dream, making Susan give him a kiss on the cheek impulsively as thanks.

Archer was snickering all the way home, putting Harry in a bad mood when the spirit wouldn't stop.

His mood was much improved when he woke up the next day even though it was early enough that the sun had yet to rise, and Harry couldn't help feeling excited as the luggage was loaded into the car and the three of them set off for the airport. Shortly after that, they were seated on the plane, and Harry finally had his first experience of mundane flying.

_How are you feeling? _Archer asked.

_A bit queasy, but other than that, I'm fine. I'll get used to this soon enough. _Harry looked out the window, watching the sight of London shrink beneath him. _I think it's just the lack of control that's the problem._

_By the way, do you think your school's Headmaster would have tried to stop you from leaving?_

_If he knew, maybe. _Harry admitted. _But then again, who knew that one of the books I took from the Room had information on how to disable alarm wards? _His innocent tone did not fool Archer, who snorted.

The book in question was **The Magical Thief** by Ivan M. Steelin (2), and while it might have appeared to be a fiction novel at first, it actually contained all manner of knowledge required to illegally enter a magically defended home, such as how to overcome locks charmed against the usual anti-unlocking spells or how to detect and disable traps meant for intruders. The spells written within ranged from the simple to the complicated, and the part on ward modification was of the latter group. Luckily, one of the warding books Harry had bought provided the knowledge he needed to bridge the gap, and he performed the spell under one of his bounded fields.

Currently, that book and the rest of its kind were hidden in the ceiling of his room through Alchemy, surrounded by three layers of bounded fields. It was a step up from his usual security, but Harry had his reasons.

_Still, that makes another thing to inform Madam Bones of. He could be illegally restricting your freedom._

_I know, Archer. That old man's clearly got some plan in mind for me, and I'm betting the main gist is about having me take down Voldemort. You didn't think I wasn't suspicious how Aunt Diana had some kind of preconceived notion regarding my summer plans?_

_I was wondering if you'd noticed. _Archer replied.

_Another test for me? Anyway, that was the reason why I waited until the last minute to inform everyone else._

Harry gave Ilya instructions to wait until he left before going off to deliver the last minute notice to each of his friends informing them of his sudden vacation plans, conveniently omitting the exact country he was traveling to. He didn't want to suspect that any of them was spying on him, but the memory of Uncle John's description of the spy novel the man was reading at that time had stuck in Harry's head, and he adopted the idea, deciding it was better to be safe than sorry.

_They're going to be mad at you, you know. _The spirit informed him. _Particularly the girls._

_...I'm sure I'll survive. _Harry tried not to imagine what their reactions would be like when he saw them again. He quickly struck up a conversation with his foster parents to avoid speaking with Archer any further.

The plane ride was quite long, with a short transit over in Singapore. Harry spent most of the time reading the travel guide he had bought, using a book cover he made from rough paper to hide the titles. He found the food on the flight rather bland, something that Archer told him was typical of aircraft meals. When he was bored, he started talking to other passengers, asking them where they were going and what sights were there to see in those places. Eventually, Harry grew tired, and napped for the rest of the way.

He was woken up by the stewardess, who informed him that the plane was landing and to belt himself in. After the plane landed, he got off with his foster parents and headed for a restaurant, noting that the climate was much warmer and more humid than he was used to, even at night. Harry tried some chicken rice and found that he quite liked the taste, and decided he would try to cook it himself the next chance he got. As he passed by the bookstore, his eye was caught by a book with a cartoon picture on it.

_**Sun Zi's Art of War**__... from Asiapac Books. _Harry was reminded of Voldemort's existence, and bought the book on an impulse. Flipping through it, he saw it was in the form of a comic book.

_Really preparing, aren't we? _Archer's tone was amused.

_Like I said before, I'm not going to let myself die so easily._

_You're reading about _war_, which is usually fought between two armies. _Archer pointed out.

_Maybe I'll figure out where they went wrong in the last war. _Harry countered.

_Suit yourself._

The flight to Japan was on a different plane, one with more cramped seats, but Harry was so engrossed in his book he hardly noticed. It described several important theories that he felt he could apply to his conflict against Voldemort, and he decided to research a little into the previous war to see how he could have applied them to it as well.

The sun was up by the time the plane touched down in Osaka International Airport, and Harry was starting to feel a little jet-lagged. Archer appeared to be taking sadistic pleasure in telling him he should have slept on the flight instead of reading the book, reminding him of the times he did tell Harry to do so during that time.

Because of that, he nearly snapped at the uniformed officer who tapped him on the shoulder as he was walking out through customs.

"Wh-!" Harry caught himself. "_**Yes?**_" He spoke with what little bit of Japanese he had managed to pick up.

"_**You're a magic user, aren't you?**_" The man asked.

Archer translated for Harry, and he nodded, tilting his head back to look at the man up from beneath his cap.

"_**Your father and mother,**_" The officer indicated his foster parents, who had stopped as well. "_**They aren't magic users. Am I right?**_"

Harry nodded again.

"_Could __**I trouble you and your family to come over here for a while?**_"

After scrutinizing the man to have Archer check for any unfriendly intentions, Harry agreed. It turned out that Harry had set off their magic sensors because he was carrying his wand, which was rare since magic users often used other ways of traveling. When they found out just who he was and why he was there, the airport staff directed him to a tourism booth catering to magicals with less fanfare than he thought they would show (Harry was slightly grateful for that lack). Although Harry declined purchasing a tour package, the woman there graciously gave him a travel guide that was up to date.

As they boarded a bus, Harry asked his foster father, "Uncle John, where does your friend stay?"

"He lives near the Nara university because he's a professor there. In fact, he's meeting us at the train station." Uncle John replied.

The man that was greeted them when they got off at the place, Kenji Shikado, was rather slender, but he had a welcoming atmosphere about him. After exchanging greetings, they loaded their luggage into the rented van, and he drove them to a normal looking house. Kenji introduced them to his family, which consisted of his wife Yoshino and his son Kousuke. Yoshino was a short, thin woman who tied her hair up into a tight bun, and alternated between strict and pleasant with a startling ease, while Kousuke was a tall, well-built teenager of seventeen, with short hair that was combed back and dyed brown.

After settling them into a guest room, Harry experienced a Japan-style meal for the first time. He found it quite an improvement over the airline food, and Archer was nearly weeping from the taste when Harry allowed their senses to connect beyond sight and hearing. He even went as far as to ask to learn their style of cooking.

Harry's opinion of Japan was that it was much cleaner compared to London, and most of the people here had black hair and different facial structures from what he was used to. As their host showed them around, Archer was translating the language on the signs they saw for him in his mind, and Harry was doing his best to absorb the language.

Kousuke did ask him why he never dyed his hair, and after Harry told him the shortened version of his story, they got on well enough, and Harry was introduced to a game console. The Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES) was something new to both Harry and Archer, but while Harry was fascinated by it, Archer realized it was an older generation console, with graphics that were a great deal simpler compared to what he recalled. It made the spirit realize just how far back he technically went in time. Harry didn't know about any of that, since he was busy playing the games Kousuke had.

They started going around the next day, visiting several areas of interest. Harry was more interested in the things he saw along the way, such as children playing baseball in a field or school teams training for some tournament, but even he felt a bit of awe when he saw the temples of Nara.

_Wow... there's a great amount of natural magic here... _Harry noticed as he stepped into Todai-ji. _Is this place on a leyline or something?_

_I have no idea. _Archer said honestly. _I never really came here myself._

Harry followed his foster parents into the shrine, and he noticed that some people were looking at him. However, seeing as they didn't make any move to stop him, he guessed that they were probably magic users who worked here. They nodded back when he nodded to them, but no further exchange occurred between them. Harry also noticed quite a bit of prana originating from the octagonal lantern outside the main hall, but he couldn't figure out just what it did.

"Look at this, Harry." Aunt Diana called out to him when she noticed his diverted attention.

"At wha- Woah." Harry gaped, tilting his head back as he approached the gigantic statue of Buddha. "That's huge."

After they took enough photos, Kenji led them towards the back of the temple, where several other tourists were. He pointed out the pillars there and the holes near their base.

"It's said that if you're able to crawl through those, you'll be sure to go to Heaven after you die." He explained.

Uncle John nudged Harry. "Why don't you give it a try? At your size, you'll be able to make it."

He only did so after a bit of persuasion, and he had a picture of him taken as he emerged out the other end. After that, he petted a few deers, and posed for a few more photos before he left the temple.

After a quick lunch, Harry went around several other temples, and things began to blur in his perception. It was late afternoon when he sensed something, and wandered off after the odd feeling, ignoring Archer's warning about doing something so foolish. Coming across a bounded field concealing a narrow path in a wall, Harry walked straight through it and followed the path all the way to a small shrine.

_What is this feeling? _Harry wondered as he circled around the building. _I hear something... sounds like an animal..._

He followed a dirt track winding through several trees, and emerged into a large clearing. There was a high stone wall enclosing an area within the place, with a single door right in front of him. When no one answered his knocking, Harry opened the unlocked door and peeked in.

"What the..."

The enclosure contained a field, but it was the animals there that caught his attention; they looked like oxen, except they were twice the size of a normal one, and golden in color. Harry didn't need his sense of smell to tell that these were magical beasts.

"_**Who are you!?**_" A female voice yelled from behind him.

Sensing danger, Harry quickly jumped aside, narrowly avoiding pieces of paper that embedded themselves into the wood of the door. He caught sight of the odd design on each of them and realized they were paper talismans, but before he could analyze them, more came his way and he was forced to dodge again.

The person who had attacked him was a teenage girl dressed in a traditional Japanese priestess outfit, with a large-sleeved white top and a long red skirt. Her black hair was flying as she raised a hand filled with more paper talismans, ready to throw again.

"_**You won't get away, criminal!**_" She declared before flinging them right at him.

* * *

(1) I think this portrayal has come up many times before, where Andromeda Tonks is a lawyer. I recall one fanfic where she works with her husband, with her handling the magic users while her husband handles the mundanes. Can't really remember what was the title, though, but that Harry went to see her for the same purpose I'm writing for mine.

(2) This was inspired by **The Thief's Spell Book **from Thanks to a Snake by lucky14now. Honestly though, while I can see there actually being such a book title in HP world due to the lack of common sense in that society, I still think it's a bit too obvious...

And so I leave the chapter off here. I'm still having trouble with my muse, and it's getting harder to put chapters out, especially since I'm losing motivation to write as well, which is the other half of what it takes me to put out more chapters. Even without exams to take time away from this, it appears that my writing is still impeded.

Of course, I'm still letting most of my writing get dictated by my random whims, so yeah. Maybe I should start a new fanfic, but the problem is that I might end up getting too focused on it, and then I'll probably end up abandoning this fic. I'm just ranting because of all the research I had to do for the last part of this chapter.

Anyway, that clears up the issue of what sort of Mystic Eye ability Harry received, and I also started Harry on the slow path of discovering just what the seven flames can do and how he will eventually be able to harness it. Just one question though, does Harry seem to be too lucky in a sense?

Okay, that's all. Just read and review, please. Suggestions on plot welcome too.


	26. Second Enchantment

Harry quickly leapt to the side to avoid the paper missiles flying at him. They embedded themselves into the stone wall behind him, clearly enhanced by some sort of mystic power. He held up both hands in a plea for her to stop, and repeated what Archer told him to say.

"_**This is a mistake! I'm not a criminal!**_"

The girl paused, but it was only momentary, and she attacked again, throwing more paper talismans at him. "_**Don't try to trick me! As if a child like that could come through the wards. Reveal your true form!**_"

Having initially thought he had gotten through, Harry dodged a little late and ended up with rips at the left side of his clothes. He barely heard what Archer was telling him to say next, but repeated it desperately.

"_**I'm Harry Potter! Twelve years old!**_"

"_**Liar!**_"

The girl flung more talismans, but this time they had an odd glow to them, prompting Harry to jump further to avoid them. To his surprise, they swerved to follow him, picking up speed as they did so.

_Homing? _He quickly flicked his wrist, causing his wand to shoot out into his hand. "_Protego!_" He cried, casting in their direction.

A shimmering barrier flashed into existence moments before the talismans hit, and they exploded like small firecrackers, spreading a misty cloud of smoke about the place. Grimacing, Harry glared at the girl, who already had several more charged and ready to go.

"_**STOP ATTACKING AND LISTEN TO ME!**_" He roared, making her flinch back. "_**Not a thief or a criminal! Just came in here by chance!**_"

She gave him a suspicious look. "_**How rude. As expected from a **_**Western**_** magic user. Didn't you learn how to speak properly? Or use the polite forms?**_"

Harry realized that he had fallen back on basic Japanese when he was yelling before, omitting the typical additions to signify politeness. But after what he had gone through for the past few minutes, he wasn't very inclined to care. Especially since he was sure her words had an implied insult in them.

"_**The rude one is you!**_" Harry pointed at her. "_**Why did you attack me?**_"

"_**You came in here without permission. Did you come to steal our sacred animals?**_" The girl retorted.

Harry frowned, then recalled the beasts he saw in the enclosure. "_**Those giant cows? No, I did not come to steal them.**_"

"_**Then what did you come here for?**_" She demanded.

Harry paused to confer with Archer on how he should explain that he had wandered here after noticing the wards, but apparently that was a mistake, because the girl grew suspicious and attacked.

"_**Trying to come up with an excuse, aren't you! I knew you were suspicious!**_" She threw four talismans, but this time they were aimed around him.

_Harry, move! Don't get caught within there! _Archer snapped out a warning.

Reinforcing his legs, the boy leapt back, barely clearing the border of the square before it erupted in a blaze of orange light. _WHAT THE HELL? _"_**Are you trying to kill me!?**_" He demanded.

"_**That's right! Lying thieves like you should just die!**_" She shouted back, pulling out a piece of paper cut in a human-like shape. "_**Shikigami! Come to my call, and defeat my foe!**_"

Harry tensed up, wary of what new trick she was going to pull out of her sleeve. _Archer, Synchro Start. _His fingers on his left hand flexed, ready to grasp whatever he might Trace, while his right hand gripped his wand tighter.

The girl flicked her wrist, sending the paper straight to the ground in front of her. Halfway there, it suddenly glowed and grew in size, coalescing into a mystical-looking beast that had some canine resemblance... plus very sharp-looking teeth. Harry started cursing the fact that the teachers for Defense Against the Dark Arts for the last two years had been subpar in quality, not caring that whatever spell was required to banish this summoned beast was probably of NEWT level.

"_Trace On._" He intoned, Tracing one of the two short swords he normally used when sparring against Archer.

"_**A sword?**_" The girl seemed surprised to see him wielding one. "_**Can you even use it? I thought all you Western magic users could only use a wand. Speaking of which...**_" She suddenly smirked, and a horrible feeling went down Harry's spine.

_She's up to something. _Archer said, but Harry was already charging forward. _Harry, wait!_

The dog placed itself between him and the girl, growling and snapping at him. Cursing, Harry swung the sword, smacking the jaws aside with the flat of the blade. _It's solid, good. _Bringing the point of his wand to point at it, he shouted, "_Flipendo!_"

The overpowered Knockback Jinx sent the dog flying, but Harry was too late to stop the girl; four talismans lay around them at the edges of the clearing, forming the corners of a very large square, and she was reciting something he couldn't make out, her hands placed together. Even as Harry began to move again, her voice rose to a crescendo, and she clapped her hands once.

"_**Sealing!**_" The girl shouted.

Magic washed over the area, the source being the girl. With a start, Harry realized that he couldn't feel the connection to his wand anymore; it was a slight warm tingle that came from skin contact with it, and its absence was very obvious now.

_She sealed off the connection. _Archer explained, translating what the girl had said.

_I didn't know this was possible... Breaking the link between a wizard and his wand... A useful skill, actually. _Harry schooled his features into an emotionless mask as he sent his wand back into its wrist holster and Traced the other half of the pair of swords.

"_**Now you can't use your magic- wait,**_" She frowned. "_**How did you summon that sword? You shouldn't be able to.**_"

"_**I said I'm not a thief. What will it take for you to believe me?**_" Harry growled, keeping an eye on the recovered dog as it slunk back to its summoner's side.

"_**You tried to attack me.**_"

"_**Because you attacked me first!**_" Harry was getting really irritated by the girl right now.

"_**Enough excuses! I will capture you and take you to my Grandpa so he can decide what to do with you!**_" She gestured, and the dog leapt at him.

_God save me from girls who don't listen... _Harry Reinforced his body and kicked off the ground, avoiding the initial charge, but before he could attack the dog, several paper talismans shot his way, forcing him to back off instead. _She knows and is covering for it! In that case..._

This time, he went for the black-haired girl, but the dog moved to head him off instead. Harry was getting frustrated; even with his enhanced speed and reflexes, the two worked together well enough to counter that advantage. So he activated his Mystic Eye's ability.

She let out a cry of surprise when the earth suddenly shifted beneath her feet, but managed to turn her stumble into a roll. However, it distracted the dog for a moment, and Harry made use of that opportunity to slash deeply into its side. The body suddenly dissipated, revealing the piece of paper at its core, cut in half.

"_**Will you listen to me now? I just want to leave!**_" Harry snapped at the wary girl.

"_**So you can come back later? As if!**_" She retorted.

Harry growled angrily. "_**You really...**_" _Archer, what's the term for annoying?_

The spirit supplied it to him, and Harry repeated it to his opponent, who seemed rather offended at that. She threw more talismans at him, and he cut all of them down, Reinforcing his swords to compensate for the hardened paper. However, before he could do anything else, she suddenly charged at him, turning it into a melee battle.

Taken by surprise, Harry lost one of his blades when she neatly disarmed him with nothing more than a quick grab and flick. Another talisman appeared in her hand, and she made to slap it onto his chest. Instinctively reacting, Harry pointed his index finger at the incoming piece of paper, activating his magic circuits.

_Fin Shot! _A black ball of prana burst out from his extended finger and blasted through the star design, and would have hit her if not for a sudden jerk of her head to the side. _She's surprised by it! Good!_

Harry fired off several more shots, forcing her to back off hastily and giving him a chance to gather himself. He quickly aimed for the ones sustaining the barrier, disrupting it and hopefully allowing him to regain his connection to his wand.

But before he could pull it out, a heavy presence settled over the area, making movement difficult. Looking at the girl, Harry saw that she was also experiencing the same thing as he was. It wasn't difficult to trace the source of the pressure; a man dressed in a simple Japanese kimono stood at the entrance to the area, arms folded as he eyed both combatants.

"_**Stop.**_" He spoke one simple word.

Seeing the girl stiffen in a way that was exactly like any student that had caught Snape's eye, Harry realized that the man must be her teacher, and relaxed slightly, though still wary of any attacks from the new presence. From what he could see, the man had rather long dark hair, one lock partially obscuring his right eye, and the left one was a dark blue, which was uncommon for a Japanese. He was also quite tall, nearly around six feet in height.

"_**Kaori, explain.**_" His tone was stiff and serious.

The newly-identified Kaori straightened up sharply. "_**Yes! I was investigating the warning of something magical crossing the wards, and came across this thief scouting out the sacred beast pen! **_(Harry scowled when he heard her call him a thief again) _**I attempted to capture him, and Teacher came while-**_"

"_**Enough.**_" The girl instantly shut up, and the man turned a stern glare on Harry. "_**Why did you come here?**_"

Harry resisted the urge to take a step back, instead facing the man bravely. _Archer, I need your help to translate. _He waited until the spirit was ready before speaking. "_**My name is Harry Potter. I noticed the ward separating this place from the temple, and simply came in to investigate. I did not see anyone else until that girl attacked me from behind. And I am not a thief.**_" He noticed that the man didn't appear to recognize his name.

"_**Liar! Then why-**_" The girl burst out.

"_**Kaori. Silence.**_" The man spoke without even taking his eyes off Harry. "_**I am Kakeru Kusakabe. It appears my student has made a mistake. Would you please accept my humble apology with an offer of tea and snacks?**_"

_...that's a bad idea, right, Archer? _Harry asked.

_Maybe not. But your parents are going to be worried. _Archer paused. _You totally forgot about them, didn't you?_

_Yeah. _Harry returned his attention to Kakeru, and bowed slightly, letting his weapons fade from existence. "_**I accept your apology. However, I must decline your invitation, as my parents will be looking for me. They are not magic users, so they won't be able to come here.**_"

If anything, that bit of information surprised the man. "_**Your parents are not magic users, but you are one? How is that possible?**_"

"_**I'm adopted.**_"

Understanding washes over Kakeru's face. "_**I understand. May I meet them?**_"

"_**Teacher, you shouldn't-**_" His student tried to object, only to fall silent at a sharp gesture from him.

_What should I do, Archer? I'm totally confused here. _

_I don't believe he has any hostile intentions, so it should be fine. Just keep your guard up. _

"_**That will be fine.**_" Harry accepted.

Before Kaori could open her mouth, Kakeru spoke first, "_**Kaori. Go back and wait for me. Now.**_"

After the girl left, Kakeru led Harry out of the place, returning to the same spot he entered from. They found Harry's foster parents soon enough, and Kakeru introduced himself as to them. Naturally, they were surprised to learn that he was a native magic user, but accepted his invitation of having tea. Harry was interested to see that when they touched the opening, it appeared solid to them, but they could pass through while holding on to someone else who already could.

Kakeru led them to a traditional Japanese-style house, with paper screen doors and tatami mats. While Uncle John and Aunt Diana were looking around in wonder, taking a few pictures after getting permission, Harry was subtly checking the bounded fields around the area.

_They're all warning-types... there are no offensive defenses. _He realized. _Why would they-_

Surprisingly, Archer didn't make him guess the reason like he always did. _It's either they do not face that much danger here, or they have the confidence to deal with anything with their personal skills._

Harry cast a quick glance at Kakeru, tensing slightly. _Just now, when it felt hard to move... that wasn't magic, was it?_

_It wasn't. _Archer confirmed. _What you experienced was focused intent, called Ki in the Japanese culture. It's one way of identifying a strong person._

_So how strong is this guy? _wondered Harry.

_Take a look at his hands, and watch his body movement. See the calluses on his palms, and on his fingers? He uses a sword, and from the control he has over his body, he must have trained with it regularly for years._

Harry was silent, trying to see the things Archer identified for himself. He didn't doubt that the man would be a formidable opponent; his training with Nicolas Flamel had allowed him to touch on how versatile he could be using a combination of magic, magecraft, and martial arts, and he could see the perfected version in Kakeru.

The adults made casual conversation, Kakeru asking about how they found Japan so far, while the couple asked about Kakeru's lifestyle. Harry was interested to hear about how the Japanese man could balance both magic and mundane lifestyles, especially when he excused himself from a conversation to take a phone call on what was unmistakably a handphone. From what he glimpsed before Kakeru closed the door, it looked like Kakeru was rather familiar with its use.

_I wonder if I could learn from him. Not just in fighting, but how to balance my life. _Harry recalled the times he had trouble finding the time to do what he wanted to do.

_Why not ask? _Archer wanted to know. _It worked with Nicolas Flamel, didn't it?_

_But- _Harry paused. _You know, maybe you have a point. I still don't see Uncle John and Aunt Diana letting me do this, though._

_You'll never know if you don't ask._

_Plus they've brought me all the way here for a vacation. _Harry knew his excuses were getting weaker, but tried anyway. _Wouldn't it be in poor taste for me if I abandoned them just for this?_

_Maybe. _Archer admitted. _But you'll try anyway, won't you?_

_...sometimes, Archer, I think I might hate you._

_Hn. _Archer responded with an amused grunt.

Kakeru came back into the room. "_**Pardon the interruption.**_" He sat down and refilled the teacups. "_**Where were we?**_"

"_**We were... talking about... how you live.**_" Aunt Diana spoke haltingly, still unused to speaking the language.

The Japanese man nodded, and picked up from where he left off last time. According to Kakeru, most of the money came in from investments and selling the parts of the magical beasts that were reared in this place. Out of curiosity, Harry asked about the giant golden oxen he saw, and was shocked to hear the answer.

"Re'em?" Harry used the European term for the magical beasts. "No wonder, they must be worth a lot!" He murmured to himself in awe.

"What are you talking about, Harry? What animals are they rearing here?" His foster mother asked him.

"Re'em, they're a magical beast normally found in the Eastern countries, resembling giant golden cows." Harry recited from the memory of a book he scanned in the Hogwarts library before. "The well-known thing about them is that drinking Re'em blood temporarily grants superhuman strength."

"That... must be quite valuable." Uncle John finally said after a few moments. Turning to Kakeru, who was watching them with a slight smile on his face, he asked, "_**Do you get... people coming to steal them often?**_"

_Looks like he doesn't know the Japanese term for 'poachers'. _Archer commented.

_Neither do I, actually. _Harry pointed out, and listened to Kakeru's answer.

"_**There were a few before, but they were dealt with quickly. There hasn't been any in the past year.**_" Kakeru replied pleasantly.

Harry couldn't repress a shiver, having sensed the man's strength for a moment. If Nicolas Flamel had been powerful in terms of magic and knowledge, this man's physical ability and fighting skill was nearly as strong, which was saying something considering Flamel's centuries of experience.

"_**Could we see the animals?**_" Aunt Diana asked excitedly.

"_**Of course, I don't mind.**_" Kakeru nodded, standing up. "_**Please, follow me.**_"

He led them down the same dirt path Harry had followed before, finally arriving at the stone enclosure. Harry immediately noticed something.

"_**There aren't any holes? But...**_" He stared at the door, where he recalled the paper missiles struck. It was perfectly unmarred.

"_**Self-repairing. Very useful.**_" Kakeru remarked. "_**Please remain watching from here. They can trample you if you're not careful.**_"

When he opened the door, Harry got a chance to examine the Re'em more closely, this time Reinforcing his eyes to do so. The Re'em really were golden in every sense of the word; their skin, hair, and eyes were all of the bright color, in some cases practically glistening. At the moment, they were peacefully grazing, but Harry could see the potential for destruction if they were spooked.

"_**Is it hard keeping control of them?**_" Uncle John asked Kakeru.

"_**To be honest, they practically raise themselves.**_" The man admitted. "_**The only difficult times are when they're to be sold off.**_"

"_**Do you butcher them when...?**_"

"_**Not all the time, and not personally. There's an abattoir nearby that takes care of that for us. But usually our purchasers prefer to do it themselves, and come to pick up the animal from us.**_"

"_**Say...**_" Harry finally couldn't resist asking. "_**Why are you so forthcoming about all this? Given the rarity of these, I thought you'd be more... secretive.**_"

He felt a bit uncomfortable when Kakeru stared at him expressionlessly for several seconds, but eventually the man answered his question.

"_**I was watching, you know. I could tell you're not one to divulge secrets easily, and the character of one like you was very evident.**_" Kakeru was using some terms that Harry hadn't heard before, but Archer translated for him. "_**I think I can trust you... even if Kaori doesn't.**_" Kakeru smiled briefly at the mention of the girl's name.

"_**What about my parents?**_"

Kakeru blinked. "_**I'm familiar with the European attitude towards people who can't use magic.**_"

_He means that wizards are unlikely to interact with my foster parents, and as such they wouldn't find out about this place from them. _Harry translated in his head, then realized that Kakeru wasn't as isolated in his worldview as his living conditions presented. _How does he know about that anyway?_

_Remember the Art of War book? _Archer prompted, his tone making it clear that he wasn't going to explain further.

_Know your enemy and know yourself... _Harry closed his eyes for a moment as understanding struck him. _Of course... that girl knew how to disable a wizard by sealing off his wand. They probably had a few poachers from Europe, and came up with a way to deal with them._

"_**Have you tried eating them before? We had some wagyu beef before, it was very delicious.**_" Aunt Diana asked, still looking at the Re'em.

"_**Ah, is that so? Re'em meat is worth more as a magical reagent, but I can personally say that the taste is actually quite good.**_"

"_**How does it taste then?**_"

"_**Hmm... would you like to try some?**_"

"_**Really? Then, we accept your invitation.**_"

Kakeru led them back to the house, where he called for Kaori and told her to prepare some of the special meat. She objected at first, until her teacher spoke sharply to her, then she complied sullenly. While she ws in the kitchen, the conversation turned to magical education. Japan had their own magical school, of course, but that was just the one where Japanese magic users learned the general skills that allowed them to fit in with the rest of the magical nations around the world; it was illogical to expect Japan to rely on brooms to fly the way the Europeans did, they just adopted it for Quidditch and learning purposes. Most of the time, magic was taught within the family, focusing on each family's specialty.

Then he began asking about Harry's education. He gave no sign that might indicate foreknowledge of what Harry was learning, but simply asked further questions as Harry described how the main subjects were taught at Hogwarts. He showed approval for Flitwick and Sprout's teaching methods, frowned slightly when told about McGonagall's, and outright showed displeasure at Snape's and Binn's.

"_**I assume you haven't learned about other countries?**_"

Harry thought back to what he saw in the library. "_**Apart from being mentioned in books as locations of magical importance, there's very little mention of anything outside Europe.**_"

"What did he say?" He heard his foster mother ask her husband, who translated for her.

"_**I knew the European countries were bad, but I didn't expect it to be this bad.**_" Kakeru muttered to himself.

"Harry, is that true? Your school doesn't teach much about world history?" Aunt Diana asked once she got the gist of what Harry said. When Harry shook his head in confirmation, she looked at Kakeru. "_**You look like... a good teacher. Do you have advice... what he should learn?**_" She asked in her broken Japanese.

"_**Perhaps I could show you to a shopping street for magic users.**_" Kakeru offered, making them break out into smiles.

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Kaori came in. Harry noted the way she opened the door while kneeling before picking up the stacked trays and crossing the threshold of the room, after which she knelt down and closed the door, before she finally served them the food. He also noted the way she glared at him, setting his tray down harder than she did for the others.

The meal was a simple one; a bowl of rice, a bowl containing miso soup, and a plate of roasted golden-brown meat. Kakeru indicated for them to dig in, and Harry tried biting into a piece.

It was certainly a new taste, that was what he thought as he chewed it, representative of Japan itself. Somehow, Harry was struck with the feeling that this was only the start of his introduction into the magical side of Japan.

* * *

When Harry woke up the next day, he was positively bouncing with energy. The thought of seeing another part of Japan's magical culture was an exciting one, and he wolfed down his breakfast fast enough that he was chided about table manners. But even his foster parents were looking forward to experiencing their first foray into magical culture (They hadn't entered Diagon Alley even once since Harry found out he was going to Hogwarts), so their words didn't have the usual note of reproach in them.

Their host had to go to work, while his son Kousuke was meeting up with some friends. Fortunately, Yoshino was able to supply them with the directions to the shopping mall Kakeru told them to meet him at, and they reached there without incident. From there, Kakeru led them a short distance away from the mall, finally pausing at a pedestrian crossing.

Similar to Diagon Alley, the opening to the magical shopping street was hidden near a pub... or rather, a cafe. It looked like any normal Western cafe, selling the usual coffee and snacks. As Harry looked up and down the street it was on, he noticed that it was right smack in the center of a block, and was adjacent to an alley from where he could smell large amounts of prana escaping. The problem was that his eyes seemed to slide off the opening when he wasn't actively trying to focus on it, and finding it again was harder than it looked.

"_**You noticed, I see. Yes, the shopping street is actually hidden in that alley.**_" Kakeru spoke up as they waited for the light to turn green.

"_**What alley?**_" Uncle John asked curiously.

Their guide chuckled. "_**Wait and you'll see.**_"

When the traffic light changed, they made their way over to the cafe, where Kakeru greeted the owner behind the counter, who seemed to recognize him. He asked for a cup of water and got it, before stepping out of the establishment. Harry picked up on the magic that settled over all four of them

"_**Watch.**_" He instructed them.

The opening to the alley shimmered, and expanded right in front of them, pushing the buildings on either side further apart. As the group looked on, shops appeared out of plain walls, and people just materialized into view, acting as though they weren't affected by the process at all. After the alley finished its transformation into an actual shopping street, a sign spanning the gap appeared above, proudly stating that this was Kamizuru Street.

_I assume that he signaled the man inside somehow to achieve this. _Archer guessed.

Harry's attention was on the entrance itself. _Lock and key magic... I've got to learn how that works!_

Kakeru led them down the street, nodding to those who called out greetings to him; he was clearly well-known here. But Harry and his foster parents were more interested in the shops themselves, especially Harry, since they were very much different from the ones in Diagon Alley. For one thing, the place was much cleaner and more modern in design, which Harry found rather favorable.

Everyone was dressed in mundane-style, although there were a few people who wore the traditional Japanese clothing of onmyoujis, which Kakeru explained to him were practitioners of Japan's traditional magic system, Onmyoudou. From his descriptions, onmyoujis usually dealt with the subjects of Divination and Defense Against the Dark Arts, to direct those who came to consult them in making beneficial decisions and to ward off harmful spirits and beings respectively. Unlike Europe's poor impression of witches, onmyoujis were highly regarded in Japanese history up till the spread of mundane culture resulted in the public denouncement of the practice as superstition, while the actual practitioners hid themselves.

"_**Although their role has dwindled compared to the past, they are still deeply respected.**_" Kakeru nodded to one as he passed by their group, receiving a slight incline of the head in reply. "_**Tradition is important, even if some of us has developed our magic to match the times.**_"

_Say, Archer, was your magecraft anything like this? _Harry asked silently.

_I don't know. I never actually experienced much of Japan's magecraft. I only know about the Church's, but that's a Western concept. _Archer paused. _If you're that interested, why don't you get a history book here?_

_They're probably all in Japanese, and I haven't got around to learning the written language yet._ Harry dismissed the idea. _But I'll think about it._

With the lack of a market for wizarding robes, the few clothing stores usually stocked mundane clothing, which were usually enchanted for several functions, such as color changing to suit the wearer's needs, stain-repelling, or damage-resistant. According to Kakeru's explanation, they also made clothes according to request, or even enchanted clothes brought in from outside, although that service was usually more expensive than if one had simply bought an enchanted one outright.

The shop that sold animals for use as familiars was also different, with the omission of rats and the inclusion of other types of animals Diagon Alley didn't. Harry's eye was caught by a particularly cute looking fox cub that blinked dewy eyes at him, before he moved on ahead to catch up with Kakeru. Ilya was enough for him, he didn't think he could handle another pet even if Hogwarts permitted it.

The apothecary was the most similar to its European counterpart, with all the magical ingredients out on display with the prices listed next to them. Like the other shops, there was a difference in variety, especially a larger fraction of plant-related ingredients. When he asked Kakeru about it, the explanation he received was that the Japanese culture preferred the use of plant material, since they were easier to produce compared to the ones from magical beasts.

"_**That reminds me, we use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon heartstrings as cores for our wands. Do you use anything like that, Kakeru-san?**_" Harry asked his guide.

"_**No, since those beasts are rarer around here. The wand shop is over there, by the way, but unlike your Ollivander's, magical foci are made to match the user.**_" Seeing the question on Harry's face, Kakeru elaborated. "_**Wands aren't the only things made, staffs, bracelets, there are various other types of foci that can be used, and all of them are made there.**_"

"_**Then, what about those talismans?**_"

"_**Those are self-made, and unique to each style. I can't say anything further on that matter.**_"

"_**So what do they use as cores here?**_"

"_**That is the maker's secret.**_" Kakeru spoke no more of that matter, as they walked further away from the place.

Next was a craftsman's shop, where they paused for a moment to take in the beautifully decorated boxes and furniture. Harry had to struggle to prevent the smell of the prana from the place overwhelming him; the enchantments on this were particularly powerful.

"Harry, come look at this!" Aunt Diana called to him from where she was sitting in an intricately carved wooden chair. "It's comfortable, and this man here says it actually gives massages as well!"

The store clerk standing next to her held out a small stone tablet with both hands. "You press this here, choose massage. Shoulders, back, thighs, all got! Here, try."

Harry couldn't see what exactly was on the tablet from the place he was standing in, but his foster mother's response after she tapped on it proved that the clerk's claims were correct. _She's probably going to want to buy that, but it can't be cheap. _Harry thought, and glanced at his foster father.

Uncle John was distracted by a large crimson chest, which had sharp decorated corners and a shimmering phoenix design on its surface that caught the light and reflected it very well. Interested himself, Harry wandered over to examine the piece. Spotting a tag attached, he flipped it open and began reading. According to it, the chest was not just eye-catching, but it was spelled for function as well. Seeing some of the claims written there, Harry couldn't resist analyzing the chest.

His brows shot up. _Woah. This is really high quality stuff. This chest was designed to survive disasters, at least. So many protections on the surface, and that's just the basics. That one single lock requires the exact key, person, and magic to open it, so not even stealing the key or Polyjuice would work. _"_**What's a Mokeskin pouch?**_" He asked another clerk, who had approached on seeing the two males' interest in their products. "_**This chest claims to match its security.**_"

"_**Mokeskin is the hide of a lizard native to Britain. Due to its magical property of shrinking when approached by a stranger, no one else but the owner would be able to access a pouch made out of it.**_" The clerk patted the chest Harry and his father had been examining. "_**This chest can hide itself, will stick to the ground and increase its weight if a stranger attempts to pick it up, and if someone tries to force it open...**_" He smirked. "_**They'll get a nasty surprise.**_"

_Offense as defense... then again, you probably won't expect a trunk to fight back... _Harry leaned closer to examine the phoenixes. _Is it this? And here too... so the runework is hidden in the design. Ingenious._

Harry's own attention was caught by a small jewelry box that was charmed to clean anything put inside and keep them looking in pristine condition. Unfortunately, just as he predicted, all of them cost an incredible amount of money, too much for even Harry to feel comfortable spending at the moment (He still planned to get his foster mother the chair at the very least).

Moving on, they finally reached a booth with a long queue. There were also guards standing near the booth, looking around with alert eyes that occasionally went over whoever was currently at the head of the queue.

"_**What's that?**_" Harry asked.

"_**Not everyone here believes in relying on the goblins for banking. That's a moneychanger.**_" Kakeru explained. "_**Payment can be made in either yen or their three coin types, and the shopkeepers come here to change their money. Of course, anyone can use this service.**_"

"_**True. I never understood why wizards in my country allow the goblins to handle their money.**_" Harry commented. "_**And with the lousy history teacher I have, I doubt I'll ever know why unless I ask the goblins themselves.**_"

Kakeru laughed and led them further onwards. This time, they finally reached the bookstore, and Harry actually felt his heart go faster as he smelled the scent of paper and ink. There was _knowledge _here waiting to be discovered.

_Really, you should have been in Ravenclaw. _Archer commented mildly.

Ignoring the spirit inside him, Harry headed straight into the store. Everything was in Japanese, but he was able to navigate around easily enough. The books were arranged in a manner that put the covers on full view, and they were easy enough to browse through. There were also scrolls of various sizes, either standing upright or stacked on top of each other. Just like Flourish & Blott's, the books were sorted according to their subject material; Harry saw a scroll on the use of precious stones under the enchanting section, and immediately grabbed it. Some of them looked really complicated, and Harry noticed that there were a few that were kept locked in cases with tags pasted over them; those exuded a dangerous sense to his instincts.

"_**Harry likes his books. I'm sure he would learn to... be reading Japanese very quickly... to understand what's written.**_" He could hear his foster mother telling Kakeru from behind him.

Kakeru's chuckles came closer. "_**He must be quite the star student then. It would be a pleasure to teach one such as him.**_"

Harry whirled around to look at the man. "Really? I mean... _**Really, Kakeru-san?**_"

_Looks like you got lucky, huh? _Archer chuckled as well.

"_**You wish to learn from me? But aren't you supposed to be on vacation with your parents?**_" Kakeru asked good-humoredly.

"Harry, we're only have less than two weeks left, are you sure?" Aunt Diana said reprovingly.

The boy blinked. "Oh right... then how about when we're not going out to see the sights?"

"It wouldn't be good. You still have to learn how to read Japanese kanji, don't you?"

"..." _Looks like a no go... _"_**Well, maybe in future, Kakeru-san. But I would like to spar against you sometime.**_" Harry added the last part impulsively.

"_**That would be fine.**_" Kakeru laughed. "_**The energy of youth is amazing, isn't it!**_"

Harry later bought another two more books and two scrolls; the books were on magical world history and Japan's magic history, and the scrolls were on enchanting and basic sealing techniques, which was Japan's version of runic script. He also bought some stationery, like brushes, both for himself and as souvenirs for his friends. His foster parents also spent some money getting them stamp seals for them, something that was commonly used by Japanese, similar to a signature.

_Too bad I can't get any of these books for them, since they're in Japanese. I know Hermione would just love new reading material. _Harry thought. _I need to think of stuff to get the others... can't bring Neville any plants, but maybe some seeds? As for the rest, snacks... _He winced. _Daphne would make me regret it if I just got her snacks. _The sharp-witted girl could be intimidating in her own way.

The last stop they made was at a modest-looking weaponry shop without a shop sign, where sharp implements of the fighting sort were mounted on the walls or on stands. As to be expected, the parents were slightly worried.

"_**Is it really okay to display them so openly?**_" Uncle John asked Kakeru.

Before the man could reply, someone else interrupted. "_**HAH! As if those unworthy of my creations could even get them off!**_"

A grizzled old man came out from the back of the shop. He was wearing grey clothes, with short sleeves that showed off extremely muscular arms. There were a few wispy hairs sticking out from beneath the small hat he was wearing, indicating baldness, but his eyes were bright and alert as he looked around at the people in his shop.

"_**Playing the guide to foreigners again, Kakeru? Free, aren'tcha?**_"

"_**They wanted to see the magic side of Japan, Sou-jiji.**_" Kakeru replied lightly.

"_**Kah!**_" The old man hobbled over to the counter, and sat down in a chair behind it. "_**So, foreigner, think my blades are nice and pretty to look at, huh?**_" If they didn't realize he was showing derision with that comment, the snort the old man gave was indication enough.

For his part, Harry was looking around taking in the blades that were present, knowing that Archer was automatically storing a copy of each one inside his inner world, adding to his stockpile of swords encountered. Naturally, none of them were on the level of Noble Phantasms, but all of them were of high quality, well-balanced, able to withstand heavy amounts of use and filled with several bonus abilities.

_Very nice... that one there... woah, that one has seen some use... and that one has a really useful ability... _Archer was murmuring as he catalogued each one through Harry's eyes.

"_**How often do people come to buy from you, old man?**_" Harry asked as he examined a shiny katana under Archer's directions.

"_**None of your business, brat.**_"

Harry bristled a little at being called a brat, but didn't react apart from firing back, "_**Not that often, it seems. Well, you do make good weapons at least.**_"

"_**You doubting my skill, brat? Because it sure sounded like you said something like that.**_" The old man growled.

Harry moved on to a pair of short blades, and before anyone could stop him, took them down from where they were hanging. "_**Light, perfectly balanced,**_" He said while performing a quick kata with both of them, reversing his grip on one in between swings. "_**Just what are these meant to kill, old man?**_"

"_**...**_" Harry felt the old man's eyes on him.

"Harry, put that down now. Real blades aren't the same as your sticks." His foster mother scolded him.

Harry sighed. "Fine."

"_**Kah, fancy yourself a dual sword user, huh?**_" The old man scoffed. "_**Oi, Kakeru, you teaching this foreigner brat your family's skills? Aren't you a one sword-style user?**_"

"_**He's not my student, he's someone I met by chance. I'm just showing him and his family around Kamizuru Street.**_" Kakeru replied.

The old man snorted. "_**Whatever. Get out if you're not buying anything.**_"

They left after that, and Uncle John was commenting to Kakeru that the man wasn't a very amiable person.

Kakeru was nodding in agreement. "_**Sou-jiji is cranky most of the time, but his skill is definitely top-notch when it comes to crafting magical weapons.**_"

"_**What do you need weapons for?**_" Aunt Diana asked, worry and confusion present on her expression.

"_**There are evil spirits and their like roaming around Japan even today. Whenever a particularly dangerous one appears, exterminators are called in to get rid of it. That's what those weapons are for.**_" Kakeru paused for a moment before continuing, "_**In other cases, the blades are for decorative or ceremonial purposes. He doesn't make a sale often, but when he does, it's usually for a large fortune.**_"

"_**Won't those evil spirits come after him if they know he provides the weapons that hunt them?**_" Harry asked after getting the proper translation from Archer.

Kakeru's reply was uncharacteristically short. "_**They've tried. They failed.**_"

Sensing that he wouldn't get any more answers out of Kakeru on the matter, Harry decided to shut up and follow after the man. _Wonder who did the defending? The blacksmith himself, his wards, or someone else?_

_I'd say he probably can defend himself. But still... your world is much more interesting compared to mine... so many magical beings and ways of magic. _Archer sounded a bit wistful.

_What's wrong? _Harry asked.

_No, nothing. In some ways, you're rather lucky._

_Hn. You're acting kind of weird today, Archer. _Harry shrugged and continued walking.

Conversation regarding the different cultures picked up again; Harry noticed some people at the snack shop they stopped at reading a newspaper, and mentioned the Daily Prophet to Kakeru.

"_**We use owls to deliver those newspapers. How's it like in Japan?**_" He asked.

Kakeru grinned. "_**Do you know what a tengu is?**_" He asked the boy.

_A supernatural creature, or youkai, that is native to Japan. Although they have their own share of bad reputations, there are some who worship tengus as guardian spirits. _Archer explained before Harry could even ask. _Their common haunts are mountains and forests, and they are very particular about their privacy._

_How do you know all this? _Harry demanded, before speaking out loud, "_**They're some kind of mountain youkai, aren't they?**_"

"_**That's a bit general, but yes." **_Kakeru conceded. "_**They live in isolated colonies, but possess amazing eyesight that allow them to see far distances clearly. They also have a bit of a passion for gossip.**_"

_It's Japanese culture, Harry. That much seems the same in this world as it is in mine. _Archer replied. _Although yours is much more interesting, I have to say._

_Okay. Now stop distracting me, I want to hear what Kakeru has to say. _"_**So these tengus, they handle the newspaper?**_"

Kakeru nodded. "_**Every part of it. The reporting, printing, and delivering.**_" He suddenly looked up. "_**Speak of the devil, there's one of them now.**_"

Harry looked in the direction the man jerked his chin in, and instantly spotted what looked like a teenage girl with medium-sized black wings growing out of her back. She wore a white shirt and a black skirt with a hand fan in the shape of a maple leaf handing off the side, and there was a tiny red hat perched on top of her head. As she spoke to the shopkeeper of the stall she was in front of, her hands busy with taking down notes in a small black notebook. After their conversation was done, she nodded and tucked away the notebook, before vanishing with a strong burst of wind that ruffled the clothes of those nearby. (1)

"She disappeared!" Aunt Diana said in surprise, while her husband seemed speechless.

Harry blinked. "_**That was... fast.**_" Even with his eyes Reinforced slightly to look in closer, all he had caught was a blur as she flew straight up. "_**How powerful are tengus?**_"

"_**Very. They are one of the fastest youkais around, which is why they can deliver so many newspapers within such a short time.**_"

"_**They don't mind doing it? Do they do this for free?**_" Uncle John interrupted to ask.

Kakeru shook his head. "_**We make payments through subscription at their public office. But they're self-sufficient enough not to require money, so no one has been able to match their low price.**_"

Harry could understand that; the tengus probably had the market cornered already, and they were originally interested in finding out things to write about, so trying to compete would be nearly impossible. He paused, realizing that all that fact-finding might have gotten a lot of blackmail material as well.

"What's wrong, Harry? You seem like you're zoning out."

"Oh, it's nothing. I just thought that the tengus might have a lot of blackmail material stashed away somewhere."

"...you know, I think you're right about that." Uncle John said thoughtfully.

"_**They do, everyone knows that.**_" Kakeru spoke, having been listening in.

"You understand English?" The sole female of the group asked in surprise.

"Yes." There was a slight sound of a 'U' following the end of the word. "But, not berry good in spee-king. _**Anyway, it's been mentioned a lot, but nobody knows where they keep it, nor do they wish to incur the tengus' anger by searching for it.**_"

"_**They must be very powerful.**_" Uncle John remarked.

"_**They are. Speed is only the least of their abilities. When it comes to tengus, we leave them alone, they leave us alone.**_"

_Unless they think you've got some juicy bit of gossip they want to know. _Archer joked.

_Are you feeling nostalgic at being in your home country or something? _Harry asked curiously.

_Mm. _The spirit hummed noncommittally.

_But I'll think I'll get a book on native Japan magical beings. And one on plants, for Neville. _Harry decided.

Finishing off their dango, the group resumed walking again. The shops grew even more varied the deeper they went. There was a gardening shop that sold tools and plants of magical and mundane varieties; Harry was particularly amused by the purring bonsai tree that responded whenever it was stroked, which was one of the store's most popular products (Very good for helping people relax, according to the store clerk). He made a note to return to this store in future for Neville's souvenir.

Another store sold wall scroll paintings, which moved like the ones Harry had seen in Hogwarts, but only for the purpose of creating a vibrant picture. There was also another type where the paintings were done only in black ink, and the animals could come out and frolic when the scroll they were on was activating.

"_**These are very useful.**_" The clerk explained to them. "_**Ninjas have put this technique to great use in the past. A lion can attack and defend, a bird can be rode on, a snake can spy and record conversations. Their creation is a family secret, but anyone can buy one if they wish... if they got the money.**_" (2)

Harry had to admit, it WAS quite versatile in its application, but moved on to other things, like wondering which of his friends would be interested in the basic art kit, which included a book on painting techniques. After that was a shop that sold things to do with magic rituals, such as candles, ready-to-use spell arrays, and reagents to be used as a sacrifice of sorts, among other things. The next shop proved to be a secondhand bookstore, which was, according to Kakeru, a good place to find special books that the previous one was unlikely to stock.

"_**That reminds me, there's this place called Knockturn Alley, which is usually frequented by the Darker side. Is there anything like that here?**_" Harry asked as they moved on from there.

Kakeru nodded. "_**There is, but not anywhere near here. It's not a place for children like you either. Most of those with common sense avoid that place because of how dangerous it is.**_"

"Harry, you aren't going to run off to that place on your own, you hear?" His foster mother said sharply.

Harry turned to look at his other foster parent. "Do I really come across like that? Some danger-seeking idiot doing stupid things for the fun of it, I mean."

Uncle John scrutinized him for a moment. "No, you don't. You've much more common sense than that."

_I disagree with him. You can be a bit reckless at times, Harry. _Archer volunteered his opinion as well, but Harry just ignored him.

They came across a few more clothing and general stores, the selection growing increasingly mundane and cheaper the further they went down the street. Japan's selection of magical sweets were certainly different; unlike the Chocolate Frogs, Butterbeer, and Cauldron Cakes, there were things like Mystery Ice, linked popsicles that would shift color and flavor once they were broken apart, Rainbow Ramune, a carbonated soft drink in a bottle that changed flavors due to the marble that kept it sealed (found out through Harry's analysis), and Cool-Chew, a gum that would let the eater bear the summer's heat more easily. (3) Ron was sure to enjoy some of them, and he didn't doubt that the twins would like to decipher the spells that made those sweets possible.

Harry noticed that there seemed to be quite a few summer-related items being sold, and Kakeru explained that it was part of Japan's culture; in fact, there was going to be a summer festival at the Kasuga-taisha Shrine on August fourteenth and fifteenth.

"_**We'll have gone back by then.**_" Uncle John remarked. "_**Harry's birthday is on the thirty-first of July, and he has plans to celebrate it with his friends.**_"

Harry felt a bit embarrassed at having the bit of information made public, though he didn't know exactly why.

"We haven't visited that shrine yet, have we?" Aunt Diana inquired.

Her husband checked their itinerary. "No, not yet. Tomorrow okay with you two?"

They agreed, and Kakeru helpfully supplied a description of the place, like how there were over a thousand lanterns there, all of which were lit on festival days, which meant only three days out of a whole year.

The group finally took a break for lunch, which they had at a simple eatery where most of the servers had animal tails and ears, but carried out their duties without magic. Judging from the looks some of the other customers were giving, the novelty of the serving girls was one of the main factors of attraction in this place; some of the girls had blonde or red hair, which certainly stood out among the others. Harry even spotted one girl with two long black tails, although the hat she was wearing covered up her animal ears, and so couldn't tell what sort of animal she was crossed with. He ordered a katsudon (pork rice bowl dish), and found the dish very good.

_There's onion and egg... soy sauce... _Harry swirled the sauce around in his mouth. _Something's tempering the flavor... sugar? I don't recognize the remaining ingredients._

_Dashi and mirin. _Archer supplied, then elaborated when Harry didn't understand right away. _Soup stock made from kelp and bonito, and sweet wine for cooking._

_Okay. The rice and meat are great too. It's actually quite well-cooked, without it being too dry. _Harry took a bite of the crispy meat. _I wouldn't mind eating this more often._

_Transfer here then. _Archer promptly replied. _I'm sure the Japanese schools would be only too happy to accept you._

Harry just continued to eat without any change in expression. He could tell that the spirit was just trying to mess with him in order to test his temper again.

There was a short incident where one of the male customers tried to feel up a serving girl's tail, only to receive a tight slap across the face before one of the wards around the place threw him out of the store. The victim then pointed out the warning sign on the wall to his compatriots telling people that molesting the girls was forbidden.

"I have to admit, seeing those tails makes even me want to touch them." Aunt Diana admitted.

"Guess that's why they have that sign up in the first place." Her husband added.

_Yep, that one's definitely a fox... and that's a cat... I'm not sure, but I think that's a wolf, except Japan doesn't have wolves... _Archer was absently trying to identify the species each girl was crossed with.

A few of the girls were trying to flirt with Kakeru, but he refused their advances, claiming he was married.

"_**You're married? But I don't see you wearing a ring.**_" Harry tapped his left ring finger to indicate his meaning.

"_**My wife doesn't wear one, so I don't either.**_" Kakeru began digging around in his pocket. "_**Hold on a moment, I have her picture here...**_"

He eventually pulled out a small photograph of a younger version of himself standing next to a beautiful redhead with long flowing red hair dressed in Western-style clothing; a long-sleeved white blouse with a large red bowtie around her collar, plus a long dark skirt held up by a brown waist belt with two buckles. (4)

"_**She's visiting her family in their village, so she's not around at the moment.**_" Kakeru explained.

"So pretty..." Aunt Diana breathed. "But her hair..."

"Is she foreign?" Harry asked curiously, then realized he spoke in English.

Before he could repeat that in Japanese, Kakeru replied first. "_**She's pure Japanese, but her ancestry is a bit... mixed.**_"

_Mixed, but he doesn't want to say what with. _Archer observed. _Look at her facial structure, Harry._

Harry did so, imagining the hair being black in his mind, and saw that Archer was right. If not for the hair, she would pass for a natural Japanese citizen.

_Stop ogling another man's wife, Harry. _Archer paused. _Oh, so you've finally hit puberty. About time. Guess I should give you the-_

_NO! I'm still puberty-free, thank you very much! _Harry shot back, alarmed. _You were the one who told me to look at her!_

_Look, not ogle. _The spirit corrected mischievously.

_I wasn't ogling! _Harry protested, covering his slip by returning to finishing his meal.

"_**Will we get to meet her? When does she come back?**_" Aunt Diana was asking Kakeru. Harry missed hearing the woman's name, and felt awkward about asking now, so he just stayed silent.

"_**She'll be back next week. Will you all still be around?**_" Kakeru asked. When the two adults nodded, he nodded back. "_**I'll introduce her to you then.**_"

There wasn't much left to see of the place, and they decided to just come back at a later time to do their souvenir shopping here. Aunt Diana also wanted to do some mundane shopping at the mall they originally met up at. They said their goodbyes to Kakeru, who told Harry how to enter the street by himself, which involved several hand signs to the cafe owner telling him how many people wished to pass the boundary. Harry practiced them until Kakeru pronounced it passable, before he and his foster parents headed for the mall.

The shops there weren't as interesting as the ones in Kamizuru Street, but at least Harry got a few more ideas on mundane appliances to reinvent in magical form. It looked like he would have to buy another notebook while he was in Japan.

* * *

Harry set the game controller down. "_**Lost again. You're really good at this.**_"

Kousuke ruffled his hair, making Harry shy away automatically. "_**I just have more experience. You're doing pretty well for someone who just started a while ago.**_"

_That's because I'm helping you out. _Archer pointed out helpfully. _This guy is a master at fighting games. If I wasn't the one actually playing, you'd probably lose without even taking him down to half-life._

"_**Be right back. Toilet.**_" Harry got up and headed for the washroom, which was downstairs.

His foster parents were currently out visiting a bar with Kousuke's father, experiencing Japan's nightlife, which Harry was still too young for, after the whole family had toured around the other parts of Nara they hadn't managed to cover before. That was why Harry was staying in, occupying his time by playing video games on Kousuke's game console. Yoshino was staying home as well, since she wasn't the type to go drinking. He could hear her talking to a friend on the phone as he entered the toilet.

The door bell rang just as Harry came back out. Yoshino stuck her head out from the living room and caught sight of him.

"_**Harry-kun, could you answer that for me?**_" She gestured to the phone in her hand to show that she was currently occupied.

Harry nodded and went to open the door.

"_**I came to play, Kou-chan!**_" A familiar voice greeted him, before the owner caught sight of him.

Harry recognized her as well; it was Kaori, Kakeru's student, except she was dressed normally this time. "You!/_**You!**_" They both yelled, pointing at each other.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly grabbed his hand and moved his finger away from her body, clearly recalling Harry's _Gandr_ curse.

"_**Who-**_" Yoshino stuck her head out again to look. "_**Kaori-chan, good evening! That's Harry-kun, he's staying with us with his parents for a while. Harry-kun, Kaori-chan is Kousuke's friend. Show her upstairs, would you? Glad to see you two are getting along so quickly!**_"

"_**Ahaha...**_" The girl laughed nervously, still keeping Harry's hand pointed to the side. She waited until Yoshino had pulled her head back out of sight before putting her face close to Harry's. "**Why **_**are you here?**_"

"_**Parents' friends.**_" Harry replied stoically, poking her in the stomach with his other hand. "_**Now let go of me.**_"

She released his hand and put both of hers up like a victim held at gunpoint.

_That must have been how I looked when Rin threatened to shoot me with that curse. _Archer's voice spoke in Harry's mind.

Grimacing, Harry lowered his hands. "_**Follow me. Kousuke-san is in his room.**_"

She pushed ahead of him and went into the room first. "_**Kou-chan, I came to play!**_"

"_**Kaori? I thought you had summer camp?**_" Harry heard Kousuke's voice say in surprise.

"_**I snuck out to see you.**_" He entered the room to see Kaori giving the older boy a puppy dog look. "_**Can't I do that?**_"

_She really reminds me of Rin. _Archer murmured.

"_**I suppose it's okay...**_" Kousuke said uncertainly.

Her demeanor instantly brightened up. "_**That's great then! Ah, you're playing something. Let's play together then!**_" Kaori cried out, having noticed the TV and game console.

Kousuke noticed Harry watching them, and quickly changed the subject. "_**Oh yeah, this is Harry. His family is staying with us for a week or so. Harry, this is Kusakabe Kaori. She's my classmate.**_"

"_**Nice to meet you.**_" The girl growled at Harry, who didn't beat an eye at her less than friendly reaction.

He suddenly noticed something. "_**Kusakabe? Then Kakeru-san is your-**_"

"_**Uncle. Not my father.**_" Kaori replied shortly, then shifted characters again as she tugged Kousuke in front of the TV. "_**Come on, let's play now!**_"

Harry decided to just ignore this random coincidence. Besides, he reasoned, he couldn't really talk about magic in front of Kousuke. So he settled down to play as well. They played several rounds, switching out players after every match, and one thing became apparent very quickly: Kaori wasn't very good at fighting games either. Even Harry could beat her without Archer's help, and that was saying a lot. But she stubbornly continued to try and beat him, occasionally resorting to random button mashing.

It was during one of these times against Kousuke when Harry's nose picked up a prana scent, and he looked towards the window at the direction it came from. There was a swallow there, but on closer examination, Harry realized there was an illusion over it; it flickered for a moment to reveal a paper cutout of the bird, with writing on it. Shortly after he spotted it, the thing flew away.

_I think someone was looking for our girl here. _Archer guessed.

_Why- oh yeah, Japanese magic... and she said she snuck out, didn't she? _Harry realized.

"_**Ahhh~ I lost again...**_" Kaori drummed her heels on the floor. She grabbed a pillow and thumped Kousuke, who was snickering. "_**Don't laugh!**_"

_She's pretty carefree for someone who technically skipped school. _Harry thought. _Doesn't she have any worries that-_

The doorbell rang, and Harry sharpened his hearing to hear Yoshino answering it. "_**Oh, may I help you?**_" There was a short pause. "_**Kaori? Yes, she's here- she what? KAORI!**_"

Harry and the girl instantly winced when Yoshino's yell rang through the house. Kousuke was similarly shocked, but he gave his friend a pitying look. "_**Mom found out about you sneaking away from summer camp, I'm guessing.**_" He deadpanned.

"_**Shit.**_" Kaori cursed. "_**I mean, oh no.**_" She corrected, noticing Kousuke's shock at her swearing. "_**I've got to go, Kou-chan.**_"

But before she could make any movements, the door opened to reveal a displeased Kakeru standing there. "_**Kaori.**_"

The girl froze, then her head turned slowly to look at her teacher. "_**Uncle...**_"

Moments later, she was being dragged out of the house, and Harry could hear her whining.

"_**Ahh... I don't wanna have summer camp... Kou-chan, heeeeelp...**_"

Kousuke seemed embarrassed, and he shrugged at Harry. "_**Girls are weird.**_" That was all he could say.

Harry couldn't help but agree with that statement.

* * *

(1) One of my reviewers seems to think that I'm crossing this with Nurarihyon no Mago, but I suppose this example should make it more obvious what I'm borrowing from instead. Aya Shameimaru from Touhou Project, which I'm doing a fanfic of (hiatus at the moment).

(2) While most of you might think this is a reference to Sai from Naruto, there are Chinese folktales of paintings coming to life, and while I'm not familiar with those of Japan, I assume there must be some there too. But I'll admit that part of the inspiration for this idea came from Naruto.

(3) It was hard thinking of actual ways to make sweets magical outside of moving and magical effects already stated in canon, especially since I'm not very familiar with Japanese snacks and sweets. It being summer in the story was a stroke of luck, since ramune is a typical summer-themed drink. I have to admit, this was partially inspired by Toriko, although my ideas are quite original.

(4) This is another borrowed character, have fun guessing where she's from. And for statement purposes, I would like to say that the anime DOES NOT EXIST! IT DOES NOT! NEVER!

Managed to get my muse working well enough to get another chapter out before 2013! Yay for me. Now to answer one of my reviewer's comment (one of those that I didn't answer directly). My random imagination has finally given me an idea on how to occupy Harry's time in Japan, and I hope you'll look forward to it, despite the rather bland end to this chapter.

**Herobrine**: Sun Zi is just another one of his aliases (and I owned the book), and your review seems to indicate that you think Harry bought the book in Japan. If you read carefully, he bought it in Singapore while changing flights.

There's not much else I have to say about this chapter except that the street's name doesn't have any meaning since I just made it up out of nowhere with my random writing spree and that I have a good feeling about how fast the next chapter will be. On the other hand, there have been additional interruptions to the usual fanfic scanning (I found a few interesting ones), such as Civilization V and a few other games, but I'm sure I'll be able to deal with it.

Leave your reviews, guys!


	27. Third Enchantment

Harry was sitting on a train with his foster parents, his attention focused on the postcard in front of him. Earlier today, they had toured around Kyoto visiting landmarks such as Kiyomizu Temple, experiencing things from a mundane point of view. They had taken a lot of photos of the place, and bought several souvenirs as well.

The cultural aspect was what fascinated Harry; he drank from the Otowa waterfall, which was supposed to grant an improvement in health, longevity, and success in studies depending on which of the three streams you drank from, or the 'love stones', which was said to enable anyone who managed to traverse from either stone to the other to find love. Harry briefly wondered how some of the romantics at Hogwarts might react if they knew about such things. In a sense, the wizarding world was a little lacking on the cultural side.

"I know you want to study magic, Harry." Uncle John had said to him. "But there's more to life than that. Sometimes you just have to stop and smell the roses."

_It's not like Voldemort's going to come after you in Japan, especially if that Headmaster of yours has yet to find you. _Archer also added his two cents.

As much as Harry wanted to learn more spells and expand his knowledge of magic, he had to admit that those two adults had a point. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad; going around like this had its own charm as compared to magic. And it was that charm that he was trying to put into words at the moment, on the postcard that showed the elevated stage of Kiyomizu Temple.

**Dear Hermione, I'm currently enjoying a tour of Japan's temples. According to tradition, if you survive a jump off this stage (13m), your wish will come true, except the practice is prohibited. See you when I get back near the end of July. Will tell you about the other half of what I saw when I do. Cheers, Harry.**

_She's probably going to be mad at me when I turn up. _Harry predicted as he set hers aside to write another to Su, who also had a mundane address that the postman could deliver to. He didn't want to risk using owls in case Dumbledore got tipped off. _I'm starting to get a bit paranoid... _Harry realized.

He finished filling out the rest of the postcards he was going to send before putting them away in his bag, to be posted later. Tomorrow was a day he had been looking forward to for some time now; Kakeru had agreed to spar with him when he came back from the trip to Kyoto, and to bring him to visit Mahoutokoro afterwards.

_Magical place, _Harry translated the name in his mind, _Something tells me it wasn't a Japanese that named it._

Pulling out the brochure for the Japanese Wizarding school he had received before boarding the train to Kyoto, Harry read through it once more. The charm on it prevented any mundane from seeing it for what it was, so he didn't have to worry about breaking any Secrecy laws. His foster parents couldn't read it either, but they got around it by having Harry read it out loud to them in the privacy of their room.

The pictures of the facilities showed an amalgamation of traditional Japan and modern European, which had a small Shinto shrine right next to tall school buildings. The uniforms of traditional Japanese garb was much more pleasing to the eye than the Hogwarts robes, in Harry's opinion; the girls wore a simpler version of the priestess outfit he had seen Kaori in, a red hakama over a plain white kimono, while the males wore black or dark blue hakamas. Certain students had what looked like a family crest sewn on the front of their clothes over their hearts, depending on the family they came from.

_You think the Pureblood issue also exists here? _Archer asked, sensing Harry's brooding thoughts when he read over that part.

_Hopefully not. _The boy went on to the next part.

Another big difference between Hogwarts and Mahoutokoro was the student clubs. From what Harry could recall, the number of clubs in Hogwarts didn't exceed twenty, and that was including the four Quidditch teams, and most of them were limited to a single House in its members. Compared to that, the clubs in Mahoutokoro numbered more than forty, and included both magical and mundane types, such as the Gardening Club, Magical Crafts Club, and even a Light Music Club. There was a Quidditch Club, but it was one cohesive club rather than the four House ones Hogwarts had, and they shared the field with some of the other physical activity clubs.

_It's partially a matter of facilities, _Harry decided, _Any garden would need to be in a greenhouse to survive the Scotland weather, and I doubt there's more than two places apart from the Great Hall and the Room of Requirement that can provide the necessary acoustics for anything music related. _

_There was that dungeon where that ghost had his Deathday Party, remember? _Archer reminded.

Harry shuddered at the memory of the awful noise the ghostly band had made in the place of music when he went there on Halloween. _If anything, it made things sound worse. I'd rather not hear anything like that ever again. _He continued to read.

In terms of academic achievements, Mahoutokoro claimed to be one of the best magical schools in the entire world with regards to international standards, which was certainly more impressive than Hogwarts being the best in Europe, and Harry had his doubts about the latter given the degree of propaganda he had encountered so far. The teachers each had several accreditations in the fields they taught, and the brochure even listed the years of teaching experience they had. He fully intended to ask to have a look at the books they used for their classes; if it wasn't the summer holidays, Harry would have asked to sit in on a class or two. Kakeru had said that there would be a few members of the staff around he could talk to, and Harry was looking forward to learning from those conversations.

The announcement came over the speakers, letting him know that Nara station was soon approaching, and Harry tucked the brochure away in his bag. He fought a yawn as he got up, stumbling slightly after having been seated for so long.

"Kenji and Yoshino are busy tonight, so we'll be having our dinner outside before we go back. Is that okay with you?" Uncle John asked him as they got off the train.

"That's okay." Harry nodded, hefting his bag onto his left shoulder. It was quarter to eight according to his watch.

The family took a taxi to the nearby mall, and after some discussion, they decided to try a sushi restaurant. Aunt Diana only had a few of the tamago sushi, the kind topped with an omelette, before giving up and simply ordering a bowl of ramen. Harry and Uncle John bravely continued on, and Harry found that he quite liked the taste of salmon roe and had quite a few of those, enjoying the sensation of them popping in his mouth to release the flavorful oil within. He also watched the chef prepare the sushi behind the counter, shaping the rice with deft hands before placing the completed sushi onto a dish to be served. Archer was watching as well, trying to compare his own skill to the man's despite the obvious difference between his general skills and the sushi chef's specialized techniques.

As Harry got up to go to the washroom, he glanced around the restaurant. _Archer._

_Yeah. _The spirit replied somberly. _I noticed._

Harry moved off slowly, walking towards the washroom in a relaxed manner that didn't reveal his thoughts. _How dangerous?_

_I can't tell, but it doesn't seem as though he intends any harm. Keep your guard up just in case though._

_You don't need to tell me that. _Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched the spectacled man get up from his lone seat. _Looks like he's trying to get me alone._

Harry had noticed the man following them from the train station ever since he caught sight of the man staring at the watch he had received from the Flamels. That was the first clue, since the watch was charmed to remain as unassuming as possible to reduce the chances of anyone wanting to steal it. In addition, the man stood out in a crowd because he was obviously not of Japanese ancestry. The next clue was when the man somehow managed to appear at their destination when they had taken the taxt before he could, which meant some form of magical transport. And the most obvious thing was that the man didn't seem to have any skill in following someone discreetly; Harry had caught the man watching him and his foster parents several times in half an hour, nearly enough to draw the attention of the mundanes.

_This one has to be the most obvious, he moved before I've even gone out of sight. _Harry slid his wand out of its holster and into his hand as he entered the male toilet, before turning around and watching the door slowly swing shut.

Just as he expected, the door opened again to reveal the man who had been following him all the while. The first thing Harry noticed was that the man had a flustered expression, and he had his hands up to show he had no hostile intentions. He still raised his wand at the man and prepared to Trace with his left just in case.

"Who are you and why are you following me?" Harry immediately demanded in English.

"I'm surprised I was paired with someone so young. You don't look like you're even out of school yet." The man glanced at the wand in Harry's hand. "We hold the all." He spoke clearly in a low voice.

Harry frowned, and after a moment, so did the other man, who lowered his hands slightly.

"You... you're not my contact. Who are you?"

_The line earlier was a passphrase. _Archer realized. _Be careful, he might become hostile._

"I'm just a student on vacation. I don't know who you think I am, but I'm definitely not him." Harry replied evenly, wary of any sudden moves. "And you still haven't answered my earlier question, who are you?"

The man's expression instantly shifted into a grimace as he swore under his breath. "How did you get that watch, boy?" He countered Harry's question with a question of his own.

"It was a gift from an old man and his wife, now answer my question!" Harry growled impatiently, the tip of his wand beginning to glow.

The man instantly brought his hands up again defensively. "Chill, kid. You can call me Cliffe. Just got you confused with someone I was supposed to meet, that's all." Cliffe grinned as disarmingly as he could.

"What does my watch has to do with it then?" Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. _He's not taking me as a threat... _The boy realized from the man's bearing.

"Trust me kid, you're better off not getting mixed with my business." Cliffe's mood shifted into a serious tone. "Word of advice, Japan's a dangerous place to be right now, especially if you've got one of Flamel's creations. Cut your vacation short and go home ASAP."

_Don't bother asking, Harry. _Archer interrupted Harry before the boy could even open his mouth. _He's got no intention of talking to you about it._

_Fine. _Harry lowered his wand. "How could you tell who made my watch?" He couldn't resist asking.

"That's a secret if you don't want a troublesome life." Cliffe replied shortly. "Gotta go."

Before Harry could do anything, the man pulled the toilet door open and slipped away. _What the heck was that? _He thought to himself.

_I have no idea myself. _Archer replied. _But the watch you got from the Flamels, and that phrase... _

Harry blinked, and finally recalled the line. _They're Alchemists! 'One is all, all is one', that passphrase must be linked to that! Archer, are there any organizations dealing with Alchemy in your world? _His thoughts had quite a bit of eagerness in them.

_One moment, let me try to recall... There's one I know of, its name... _Archer went silent while he tried to remember what it was. _I know it was some Greek name... guy holding up the sky..._

_Atlas? _Harry supplied as he went about his business.

_That's it. Atlas Academy is one of the three branches of the Mage's Association, focusing on alchemy in their studies. However, I did not have much interaction with them, so I have no idea about the differences between these two worlds' field of studies. _(1)

_Not that it's really relevant here, _Harry dismissed, zipping up. _Any others?_

_I think there are some within the Sea of Estray, but those are minor._

_Sea of Estray? Wait, let me guess... It's one of the other two branches, right? The last being the Clock Tower._

Archer nodded. _Correct. The Sea of Estray isn't really a full organization, but more like a council of minor ones. _

_Ah, I see. Something like Hufflepuff, where those who don't make it into the other three go to. _Harry summarized while washing his hands.

_Not the comparison I would make, but whatever helps you understand. _The spirit dryly remarked.

_Anyway, I wonder what sort of business that guy was up to in Japan? _

_You're better off taking his advice. _Archer told him. _There's no sense blindly rushing into things you have no idea about. Why would you want to put yourself into danger needlessly?_

_I was just wondering. _Harry retorted as he left to rejoin his family. _You don't have to try and guilt-trip me. And you're one to talk about that._

_Shouldn't have told you about the things I used to do. _Harry heard Archer mutter.

Harry put the incident out of his mind just as he was told, and spent the time thinking about tomorrow's itinerary instead. After they had paid the bill and left, they headed back to the Shikado house, where Yoshino welcomed them back warmly. Kousuke was talking on the phone when Harry looked in on the older teen, but he waved when he spotted Harry. After taking a bath, Harry climbed into his bed and had a few spars with Archer before letting sleep claim him.

The next day saw Harry turning up at Kakeru's place early with his foster parents. Kakeru was already waiting with a sheathed sword in his hand, dressed in light clothing that was clearly designed for utility. Harry took a few minutes to change into similar clothes in the changing room provided.

_Any last minute advice, Archer? _He asked while stretching, limbering up his muscles for the spar.

_Don't get hit. _The spirit replied simply.

_Right, I'll try not to. _Harry thought back sardonically. _You're not helping me out this time._

_Yeah. _Archer agreed, knowing how much Harry wanted to test his own skill.

When he emerged from the room, he saw that Kaori was serving his foster parents tea and snacks on the veranda where they were seated. Kakeru was standing in the clearing some distance away, seemingly not paying any attention. Harry approached, stopping about eight meters away from the man.

Kakeru closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "_**Your weapons?**_" He asked.

Harry held out his hands. "Synchro Start. _Trace... On!_" The two swords he had grown used to materialized in them, their weight familiar in his grip. He could hear exclamations of surprise from his foster parents, having witnessed this new form of his magic for the first time. (He showed them Alchemy before)

Kakeru's eyes flickered over to his student. "_**Kaori.**_"

The girl nodded and came slightly closer. She raised a hand. "_**Ready!**_"

The Japanese man drew his blade and settled into a defensive stance, while Harry brought up his swords and lowered his center of gravity, purposely leaving a small opening at his lower right.

Kaori glanced at both of them to ascertain their readiness, then dropped her hand and leapt backwards. "_**START!**_"

Harry barely remembered to Reinforce his body before Kakeru was suddenly right in front of him, swinging for the opening he left. The force behind it would have knocked if off balance if he hadn't done so, but with the prana strengthening his body, Harry simply blocked with his left while counterattacking with the right in a spinning slash aimed at Kakeru's head.

His opponent easily blocked it, but Harry was already moving into the next attack; one of his blades darted out in a stab aimed at Kakeru's side. The man parried it away with the flat of his weapon while stepping inside Harry's guard at the same time, angling the hilt for a smash to the sternum.

_He makes it look so effortless! _Harry backpedaled, trying to avoid the blow. _This guy's a sword master for sure!_

_He's going to- _Archer started to warn. _Too late._

In a blink of an eye, Kakeru neatly disarmed Harry of one of his blades by plucking it right out of his hand, combining that motion with another that put him in position to kick him in the back of his left knee, knocking him down.

Rather than stopping himself, Harry followed through with the fall, turning it into a roll that took him away from what would have been a match-ending strike. With a single thought, he replaced his lost weapon with another, and attacked again.

Kakeru was only mildly surprised to see him still armed even after that move, and it didn't affect his skills in the slightest. Every strike of Harry's was blocked or deflected, the closest ones only managing to nick his sleeves. At the same time, Kakeru launched his own counterattacks to test Harry's defense, and he found that the young boy had no problems dealing with them. He did notice that Harry's eyes were constantly roaming, causing him to realize that the boy was able to read his body's movements to predict how he was going to attack and where the holes in his defense were. He couldn't help but feel impressed.

For his part, Harry realized he still had a long way to go within the first ten seconds of the spar. _There's a gap that can only be bridged by age, but it's even wider with years of experience added on. _He thought as he dodged several flickering flashes while parrying others. _He's faster than a normal human, enough to match me Reinforced. Is he using magic to make himself faster too? Archer, what can you tell me about his weapon? _He asked the entity observing the fight through his eyes.

_It's not his actual weapon, just an ordinary katana meant for live sparring. _Archer informed him. _It has seen considerable use though. At least two hours a day on average._

Whatever reply Harry had to say was lost when Kakeru's blade twisted around his guard to land smarting raps on his wrists, causing his hands to go numb and drop his weapons. Before Harry could back away, the flat of the katana was touching the bottom of his chin, the edge less than an inch from his throat.

"_**Match over!**_" Kaori announced, a note of glee evident in her tone. "_**Winner, Sensei!**_"

Kakeru relaxed and withdrew his blade from Harry's neck. Sheathing it, he bowed to Harry. "_**Thank you for the spar.**_"

Harry quickly copied the action, returning a bow of his own. "_**Thank you for the spar. It was... enlightening.**_"

To his right, he could hear the other two adults clapping, applauding the amazing show of skill the two combatants had displayed. _Although to trained eyes, it would be obvious that I'm not at Kakeru's level. _He thought ruefully, triggering the destruction of his Traced blades now that he no longer had any use for them.

"That was amazing, Harry!" Aunt Diana cried, suddenly swooping in to hug him. "The way you made those swords appear in your hands!"

"You've been holding back during your eskrima classes, haven't you?" Uncle John smirked at Harry over his wife's shoulder. "That was a great fight, Harry."

"Thanks, Uncle John." Harry said after Aunt Diana released him. Switching to Japanese, he turned to Kakeru. "_**So, how did I do?**_"

"_**Well, you've obviously been practicing, but what's holding you back is a lack of experience fighting other opponents. Am I right to say that you've only sparred with two people so far?**_"

_One, actually, _Harry thought, but nodded silently.

"_**Then you just have to find more sparring partners. Still, you're quite good for your age. And with magic, you might actually be able to win against me.**_"

"_**Sensei, you can't be serious, right? There's no way this brat would ever be able to beat you.**_" Kaori interjected, causing Harry to throw her a dirty look.

Her teacher chuckled. "_**Give it a few years, and then we'll see. Now,**_" He tilted his head towards the building compound. "_**Shall we wash up and go?**_"

Kakeru gave them permission to leave Harry's sweaty clothes at the house, to come back and pick it up later. Surprisingly, Kaori was also coming along with them. After they all had changed into more formal outfits, he led the party of five down several dirt paths, his steps sure as they passed through the bamboo forest. Kaori kept chattering away, mostly talking with Aunt Diana about fashion and other girly stuff.

_I'd get lost in here for sure. _Harry thought as he glanced around at the sea of narrow green trunks. _Wonder what sort of place Mahoutokoro is like?_

"_**Here we are. This is how we'll travel to Mahoutokoro.**_" Kakeru announced as they turned a corner. "_**The gateway.**_"

Harry almost gaped at the sight of the gigantic _torii_ that stood before him. It was at least twice the size of the largest one he had encountered while touring around the temples of Japan, painted a brilliant red with white flecks all over. Then the smell hit him; the prana scent it had spoke of intense power, of myriad seasons and various places. He nearly stumbled as they stepped onto a smooth rock path.

_Some kind of dimensional gate? _Harry wondered as they approached it.

_Apparently so. _Archer was also interested in the structure as well.

On either side of the path leading up to it, there were several shops selling snacks and souvenirs, plus a few eating places. It wasn't as big as Kamiuzuru Street, but the number of people passing through wasn't that small either.

As they approached the _torii_, Harry saw the air near the pillar on the right ripple, and a man appear from that space, walking normally. Another couple walking towards the _torii_ on the left side of the path were swallowed up by the barrier in a similar manner as they passed through it. Harry noticed the former drop something into a collection box before heading for one of the shops.

"_**It's amazing!**_" Uncle John exclaimed in awe.

"_**Isn't it?**_" Kakeru smiled. "_**First, we'll have to buy passes from the booth over there.**_"

"_**Say, where is Mahoutokoro located? Which prefecture?**_" Harry couldn't resist asking.

"_**That's a secret. Not even I know, actually.**_" The man gave him a sheepish look. "_**But this is the only way of getting there.**_"

"_**Yeah, and there are all sorts of defenses that will grind you up and spit you out if you try anything funny, idiot.**_" Kaori added.

"_**Kaori.**_"

The girl looked away, whistling innocently. Sighing, Kakeru led them to the ticketing booth, which was manned by a smiling boy.

"_**Yes, how may I help you?**_"

"_**Five to Mahoutokoro.**_"

The boy looked past him to see Harry and his foster parents. "_**Ah, tourists! How nice. We have brochures on the gateway. Would you be interested?**_"

Glancing at the other two adults, Harry shrugged and decided to get one for each of them. While he was reading through it, Kakeru paid the fare and received five wooden tokens, which he distributed to the rest of them. A brief glance through the brochure informed Harry that those tokens functioned like passkeys, working together with the magic on the gateway to direct the bearer to his or her intended destination.

"_**Is this your first time?**_" Seeing Harry nod, the booth attendant proceeded to inform them of what was involved. "_**The left side is for outgoing, the right side is for incoming, so keep to the left of that black line. The change in scenery might make you feel a bit queasy, so it would be better if you close your eyes as you're crossing.**_"

They thanked the boy and started walking towards the _torii_.

"_**What happens in the case of heavy traffic?**_" Uncle John asked, a note of worry in his voice. "_**There aren't any... accidents, are there?**_"

"_**I'm not really familiar with the workings of the gateway, but there's some time magic involved to stagger arrivals such that only one passes through at a time. Which reminds me,**_" Kakeru looked pointedly at the watches they were wearing. "_**While the lack of a crowd means that the staggering won't happen, you should check your watches to make sure they're still correct after you pass through.**_"

They nodded at this, and continued to walk towards the gateway. As the distance shortened, Harry realized that the white flecks on the red pillars were actually small paper talismans pasted in a seemingly random pattern, each one bearing the squiggly script of Japanese sealing. The entire thing was an enormously complicated magical working, one that struck Harry with awe.

_Makes you wonder why they don't have something like this in Britain, doesn't it? _Archer said conversationally, though Harry didn't miss the direction of that thought.

_I'm guessing that Japanese sealing as a system has some links to dimensional magic, _Harry guessed. _A field that Britain doesn't have much proficiency in. Interesting... this difference between two countries' magics._

Stepping through the gateway felt like a puff of cool wind over their bodies, one that felt like it blew straight through their clothes as well. Harry was somewhat reminded of the barrier at King's Cross Station, but before he could actually compare the two, the sight before him blew that thought from his mind entirely.

The first impression Harry had when he saw Hogwarts was 'majestic', which was exactly what the angle of viewing it from a boat on the lake was meant to convey. In comparison to that, Mahoutokoro lived up to its name with a presentation that was simply magical. Despite the summer season, the path leading to the school was lined on either side with cherry blossom trees in full bloom. In the distance, one could see various things floating around the whitewashed school buildings, such as a cloud striped in purple and red, and several smaller _toriis_ that people riding on brooms were flying through. Harry even spotted a garden that was linked to the ground by a floating set of stairs.

_Well, that certainly does fit my image of a magical school. _Archer murmured.

_My sentiments exactly. _Harry thought in reply.

His foster parents were similarly awed, and it took the combined efforts of Kakeru and Kaori to get them moving once more. They dropped their tokens into the box that was located nearby, for the attendants to recycle for other users of the gateway.

"_**We have to visit the main office first, since all of us are visitors.**_" Kakeru murmured.

"Is your magic school anything like this?" Aunt Diana whispered to Harry as they followed after Kakeru.

Harry couldn't hold back the snort at that question. "I wish. Hogwarts looks normal on the outside, and apart from moving staircases and secret passageways, it's like any other castle. This place is so much more interesting."

"_**Your school doesn't allow visits by non-magical parents?**_" Kakeru asked over his shoulder, having overheard.

Harry shook his head even as the others looked at him questioningly. "_**Not at all.**_"

"_**Sounds boring...**_" Kaori remarked.

Harry didn't say anything, but privately he agreed with Kaori.

Still, he had to admit that Mahoutokoro was beating Hogwarts in several areas already, before he had even seen a class being taught. For one, he did NOT appreciate the cold weather Scotland was plagued with, and there were so many memories associated with that part; seeing Hagrid having to defrost the school brooms, watching the other students try to huddle up to their fire because the dungeons weren't heated, and so on...

_Hogwarts really needs to fix up its climate bounded fields... if they even have them. _Harry groused in his head.

Despite the bright sun, the air was quite cool, making their walk comfortable. A warm breeze blew through the trees, scattering pink petals everywhere. Harry detected the lightest of Bounded Fields springing to life, and watched as the pink cloud were pulled by the wind longer than they should have been, avoiding the ground entirely until they were no longer over the path. He recalled the part of the brochure he had skimmed through before; the trees were enchanted to in be full bloom throughout the year, while runework on the tiles at the path's edge maintained a field that kept any petals from landing on it. It was trivial and served no practical purpose, but Harry couldn't help liking it.

The gate soon came into view, and its Western-style architecture drove in the point that the school was Japan's way of catering to those Kaori referred to as wand-users (in a derisive tone). It was three meters tall, but the marble pillars with their carvings of magical animals didn't make it look intimidating in the least. The bars were painted a deep sea blue, and Harry could sense the magic slumbering inside them, ready to awaken should a threat to the school appear.

Kakeru had them sign in at the security booth past there, in front of a security guard that would not have looked out of place in the mundane world. The man handed them visitor passes, which they clipped to their clothes before proceeding onwards. Since Uncle John and Aunt Diana didn't have magic, theirs would also enable them to ignore the mundane-repelling wards that were laid over the place.

"_**The administration building is right there.**_" Kakeru pointed out the large structure; it had a giant clock right over the wide glass doors that were the main entrance, but the face occasionally shifted between the usual clock hands and a numerical display.

To Harry's senses, it had its own wards, which made him wonder why there were so many defenses around this place. _Maybe it's because of World War Two, they must have been worried about attacks from other magic users._

Kaori started asking Harry questions about Hogwarts, if only to subtly stress that Japan was better than Scotland in terms of magical schools. Having been needled by someone who knew him inside and out, her words were water off the duck's back to him. Besides, he was in agreement with her on some of the points she raised; compared to Hogwarts, Mahoutokoro seemed two to three times better. It embraced progress, while Hogwarts preached traditionalism. And Harry knew which one he preferred.

The group reached a room on the first floor, with the sign indicating that it was the staff office. Kakeru knocked on the wooden door, which slid open automatically.

"_**Kusakabe-san.**_" The woman sitting at the desk spoke in surprise, having looked up when the door opened. "_**What brings you here? Who are those people with you?**_"

_No bounded fields to detect visitors. _Harry noted as he stepped into the room after his guide.

There were several other desks in the large room, all arranged parallel to the length of it forming two rows with three aisles of space. The woman's desk was the only one that was placed the opposite way at the head of the room, allowing her full view of the others, especially with it raised up on a small stage. Harry saw that despite the large number of books and files on the other desks, there was no one else present.

Kakeru began conversing with the woman, at a speed that Harry had trouble following. He heard certain terms thrown out, such as his name and 'visitors', but didn't get much else. However, Archer could follow, but there wasn't really anything important said.

"_**I see.**_" The woman said after Kakeru finished explaining things to her. "_**Hello, and welcome to Mahoutokoro. I am Tenri Ikaruga, the deputy headmistress. And you're Harry Potter, I hear.**_"She directed the last part at Harry.

Harry nodded. "_**Yes. Pleased to meet you.**_" He bowed.

She stuck her hand out at the same moment. The two of them paused, taken aback, then quickly tried to match the other's action; this time, Ikaruga bowed, while Harry held out his hand. The smothered chuckling of the others made the woman blush, and she quickly grabbed his hand and shook it firmly before letting go to greet his foster parents as well. Harry noticed that she didn't have anything on her ring finger and assumed she was single.

"_**Of course, we welcome visitors such as yourselves. It's no trouble since we aren't having classes at this time.**_"Miss Ikaruga explained to them a short while later, serving them tea. "_**So, what questions do you have?**_"

Naturally, Harry began asking about the classes that were taught at Mahoutokoro. Most of the subjects were similar to Hogwarts'; Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, History of Magic, but there were also subtle differences. Ikaruga handed him a few of the subjects' textbooks to browse through, and he saw that the level of difficulty started out low, but increased exponentially towards the end.

_The native culture is quite competitive. _Archer explained, sensing Harry's thoughts. _It stands to reason that the magical side would be the same._

Miss Ikaruga seemed pleased by the questions he had, and even once remarked that she'd welcome a student such as him. After the subject of academics, the conversation turned to the other areas of student life; she was impressed to find out that he had started up a Student Council, commenting about how difficult it must have been. From there, she elaborated more on the student clubs, providing information that couldn't fit on the brochure.

"_**Some of our clubs meet in the summer. Would you like to see them?**_" The woman offered. Seeing them nod, she continued, "_**However, I have my own duties to see to, so why don't you follow our Mundane Culture teacher?**_"

As if on cue, the door behind Harry slid open, causing him to turn around to see who had entered. The moment his gaze landed on the newcomer's face, he felt a staggering shock of emotions come through from Archer; it was evident that the heroic spirit recognized this person, who was dressed in the shirt, tie and pants of mundane clothes, with a long brown coat over his shoulders.

"_**Allow me to introduce this man.**_" Miss Ikaruga stood up and walked around the desk. "_**This is Professor Kiritsugu Emiya.**_"

The scruffy-haired man nodded to them. "_**Hello.**_"

* * *

"_**And over here we have our archery range...**_" Professor Emiya indicated the traditional style building as it came into view. "_**The archery club trains there and helps maintain the place, although no one is currently using it for today.**_"

"_**What sort of magic do they use there?**_" Aunt Diana asked curiously.

"_**Assistance in cleaning, setting up, and scoring.**_" The man replied. "_**Just those.**_"

_No reminiscing about how you used to practice archery when you were young, Archer?_Harry called out.

_Hmm? Mm, no, I quit the club after a bit. The club president kept asking me to return though._Archer's tone was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"_**Is it okay if we give it a try?**_" Harry's foster mother asked.

Professor Emiya paused in mid-step, and turned to look at her. "_**You... practice archery?**_" The way he stated it didn't make it clear whether he doubted her or was surprised by the request; the man seemed to be without any emotion other than weariness.

"_**No, it's Harry here.**_"

That tired gaze turned towards Harry, who immediately felt a bit uncomfortable. "_**I picked it up when I was seven. I practiced as much as I could, even in Hogwarts.**_" He said by way of explanation.

The man nodded. "_**It's okay to make use of the place then.**_" Turning back around, he led the way towards the archery range.

Harry wasn't sure what to think of this person, whom he knew from Archer's stories as the man who saved his life and unknowingly instilled Archer with his hopeless ideal. He was very much aware that the one before him and the person in Archer's stories were two different people, separated by the dimensional barrier between worlds, but given the fact he could sense his passenger's emotions telling them that they both looked exactly alike, right down to the style of dressing, it was rather confusing.

_He acts the same as the one you knew, right? _Harry asked Archer tentatively.

_Yeah. _Archer replied dully, and wouldn't say anything further.

The charms on the archery range proved to be a rather interesting experience for Harry; almost everything else other than the act of having to draw and release the bow seemed automated, responding to the user's verbal commands. The bows themselves were also very well-maintained, and Harry almost thought he could hear the wood singing when he laid his hands on one of them. And despite Kaori's verbal jabs, he shot several bullseyes in a row to the applause of his audience.

"_**You would be greatly welcomed in our school's archery club.**_" The teacher observed as the arrows were retrieved from the target.

Kakeru nodded in agreement. "_**You must have practiced quite a lot. Your stance, breathing, timing were all perfect.**_"

"_**I had a good teacher.**_" Harry replied modestly without thinking.

Needless to say, his foster parents started questioning him about it, because as far as they could recall, he had never spoken about the instructor at the community center that well before. In the end, Harry just stated that he met a man dressed in red who gave him several helpful tips, and refused to say anything more on that matter.

The next place they visited was the dojo, which was currently in use by the kendo club. Once again, the score was kept track of by magic, but apart from that, the students practicing wasn't much to look at, and they quickly moved on.

The next building they approached was so cloaked in magic that even the magic-insensitive pair in their group could feel the pressure in the air. According to their guide, this was because the place was where all the clubs related to magic were housed, which meant the potential for chaotic destruction was extremely high, hence the heavy level of defenses designed to contain any and all incidents.

"_**The ones with lower risk are situated on the lower floors, while those with higher risk are placed on the higher floors. This way, if a fire breaks out and through the wards, evacuation will be easier.**_" Professor Emiya explained as he led them down a corridor.

The clubs on the first floor were fairly tame; Harry got a look at the Gardening Club and the Magical Board Games Group, both of which had members present today. The former cared for both mundane and magical species of plants, mainly those that possessed some form of aesthetic value, although they occasionally worked together with other clubs like the Magical Mixtures Club, which used some of the grown plants as ingredients.

Noticing one potted plant was wrapped in a clear plastic bag, Harry couldn't resist asking, "_**Why is that one bagged up?**_" _I've never seen this gnarled plant before._

The club member glanced over from where he was showing a color-changing flower bush to Harry's foster parents. "_**That's one of the senior students' new discoveries. That plant puts out a magical gas, and he's concentrating it to see what sort of effect it has.**_" (2)

_Interesting... which means I better not touch it. _Harry thought to himself, pulling out his notebook to take down ideas. _Hogwarts could use more clubs... and more teachers to watch over all the kids._

_You should check how much are you and the others paying in fees. _Archer murmured absently, glancing at Professor Emiya through his host's eyes.

The Magical Board Games Group was just as its name suggested, using magic to make normal board games more interesting, or coming up with original magical types. Quite a few of them were more interesting than any of the typical wizarding games like Gobstones and Exploding Snap, and Harry could imagine the Weasley twins taking to them eagerly, perhaps even inventing some of their own. He took down several pages worth of notes, asking question after question of the teenage club president.

The remaining clubrooms were locked, but some of their works were on display outside; Harry was interested to see clubs based on adding the element of magic to fashion, arts & crafts, and even music. Who knew that a spell meant to convert sound to light could have that sort of application? Harry was very sure that visiting Mahoutokoro made the whole Japan trip worth it.

After looking around the currently unused multipurpose room that took up the remainder of the first floor, they headed up to the second. That level introduced clubs that dealt with more applied forms of magic; reenacting of history scenes in a History Club, production of special effects in a Drama Club, and enchantment of mundane items, the one Harry was most interested in. He stayed there for over an hour there even as the rest of the group moved on, discussing ideas, charms and runes with the members, and even had to borrow a new notebook when his current one ran out of pages. The Greengrass family would be happy to make even more money with what he intended to 'invent' when he got back to England.

As Harry was leaving the room, he turned back to wave at his newfound friends. The sound of the door opening before he reached it didn't register in his mind until he was turning back to face forward again, and he ran face-first into something large and soft.

_What the-? _The boy wondered, hearing gasps from the Mahoutokoro students behind him. He made to step back, but something wrapped around his shoulders and kept him there.

"_**Ara ara,**_" A female voice spoke from somewhere above his head. "_**Foreigners really are forward, aren't they? And so young, too!**_"

Archer started chuckling right away, having realized just where Harry had his face in. It took Harry several seconds before he realized it as well, and the boy immediately stiffened. He craned his head back to look at the girl whose chest he had his face in.

The first thing he noticed was her russet red hair, which fell down slightly past her shoulders in flowing locks. The older girl had a heart-shaped face, with a pretty smile stretching across it. However, he soon noticed her other features, especially when she tilted her head down slightly to look him straight in the eyes.

"_**So pretty...**_" She murmured.

With golden eyes of her own, while the two fox ears on top of her head twitched. _A youkai? _Harry thought in surprise, feeling an odd swaying in the girl's body. _Is that... a tail-_

The sensation of a hand on the back of his head was the only warning he got before he suddenly found his face buried in the girl's generous bust again. "Mmmpph!"

"_**Kyaaa~ You're so cuuuuute!**_" Harry heard her squeal even as he started to fight for air.

His cheeks felt somewhat warm as well, and Archer's laughter only increased in intensity. _Little Harry's finally started noticing girls, huh? _The spirit chortled, the hilarity of the situation breaking his normally stoic demeanor.

_Sh-shut up, Archer! _Harry thought as fiercely as he could, even as he tried to free his face from the marshmallow prison it was in.

"What are you doing to my son?" A female voice hissed from somewhere off to his right, in English.

"_**Hey, let go of the boy, Kiriyo.**_" Professor Emiya's voice added. "_**You'll end up suffocating him if you don't.**_"

"_**Buu~**_" The girl pouted, but released Harry, who sucked in a great breath of air. "_**No fun.**_"

Aunt Diana placed herself between her foster son and the new girl, eyeing the latter suspiciously. Peeking around her side (and ignoring Kaori's teasing), Harry saw that his earlier image of the girl having a tail was spot on; a white-tipped fox's tail the same color as her hair was swaying from side to side teasingly even as she winked directly at him.

Professor Emiya coughed. "_**Allow me to introduce you. This is Mai Kiriyo, a fox youkai, and while she doesn't look like it-**_"

Kiriyo framed her face with two peace signs while lifting one foot up behind her. "_**Tee hee!**_"

"_**She is one of our top students, and a member of the Discipline Committee, in charge of maintaining the order in our school.**_" The teacher finished, pointedly ignoring the antics of the fox girl.

"_**Bet she seduces all sorts of men with those udders...**_" Kaori muttered under her breath, but still loud enough for Harry to overhear.

The person in question overheard it as well. "_**Ara, sounds like someone is... jealous.**_"

Harry forced his gaze away just as Kiriyo crossed her arms under her bust to push it up and emphasize it even more. He knew Archer was right; his hormones were finally kicking in and bringing puberty down on him.

"_**How cute~**_" Kiriyo cooed, taking a few steps towards him.

"Don't you come any closer." Aunt Diana warned, making the girl pause. "And you, remember that you're married!" She snapped at her husband, who seemed to have just as much trouble keeping his eyes under control as Harry was.

"_**A few more years, a few more years and I'll catch up, you'll see...**_" Kaori grumbled.

Harry glanced at Kakeru, who appeared to be observing the entire event with an amused look of his own. He was feeling quite confused about the whole thing.

_You might have been ignoring it, but you're actually quite popular. _Archer reminded him. _Playboy._

_I am NOT a playboy! _Harry desperately protested.

_Denial isn't just a river in Egypt. _The spirit countered.

_GAAAAAH! GAAAAAAAH! I'M NOT LISTENING TO YOU! _Harry tried to drown Archer out, but it was hard to do so when the other party was in his head.

Eventually, the group proceeded onwards to the third floor, with Kiriyo tagging along. The new addition made the tension level higher, especially between her and Kaori, who clearly had some issues with the former (To be more specific, a part of her anatomy).

As Harry expected, the Magical Mixtures Club was on this level; like Snape always sneered at his students, Potions could be dangerous if not handled carefully. Harry could testify to that, having witnessed some of Neville's more spectacular accidents firsthand. However, looking around at the makeshift lab, he couldn't imagine that sort of thing happening here very often, if at all. The medium-sized clubroom was split into two sections, a study area filled with desks and a preparation area where the cauldrons and benches, both separated by a wall of protective glass with two doors at separate ends near the walls of the room. Protective clothing could be found in cabinets near those doors, and it made Harry wonder just why Hogwarts didn't have something like this.

_Perhaps it's a mark of their own skill, being able to brew potions with only minimal safety. _Archer idly suggested.

Harry blinked. _That reminds me about that history of medicine I read before. Surgeons didn't wash their hands or coats back then, and dirty coats were taken as a sign of their skill. _(3) _Wizarding Britain really is backward..._

"_**The builders copied some of the ideas the non-magic users used in their own research labs.**_" Professor Emiya explained, pointing up at the ceiling. "_**Those air vents draw off any of the fumes, preventing any toxic buildup.**__**The same system is set up in our actual Potions lab, though on a much larger scale.**_"

The Japanese students were revolted when Harry described the conditions the Hogwarts students brewed their potions in, and the impression they gave off was that it was a wonder that no one had died yet. Thankfully, Professor Emiya interrupted that line of discussion and had the club members explained what they did in the Magical Mixtures Club, which was something akin to a research team cum study group, striving for a more in-depth understanding of the subject in order to invent new potions or improve existing ones, though said mixtures were usually for trivial purposes, just the sort of thing Fred and George would greatly enjoy.

Harry noticed Kiriyo eyeing him quite a few times, and whenever he caught her, she would wink mischievously, and one time she even licked her lips. Needless to say, Harry was finding it extremely awkward to stay in her presence. Aunt Diana noticed as well, but somehow the fox youkai was able to keep the majority of her teasing acts hidden, enough that the woman couldn't call her out on them.

"_**So, putting it on the third floor allows it to be aired out properly?**_" Harry asked his guide, to distract himself from Kiriyo's presence.

"_**That's one part of it, yes. But the number three has magical properties related to defense and protection, which is why any protective enchantments on this floor are strengthened.**_"

_Huh, that's interesting. _Harry thought. _Seven's also a magical number, maybe that explains why the Room of Requirement is on the seventh floor._

The next room was nothing more than a locker room with two punching dummies set against the wall. The single girl present there introduced herself as Tatsuko Itaki, the manager of the Magic Fight Club, a club that mixed magic with hand-to-hand fighting.

"_**Magic is very useful, both in combat and training.**_" She said earnestly. "_**See, this board shows our members' training regimens, like how much physical exercise they do a day.**_"

Harry noticed something else beside the numbers. "_**What does the chain there represent?**_"

"_**Ah, that means the person trains under an Impediment Seal.**_" Itaki informed him.

Harry took a moment to get the translation of the term she used. "_**Seal? You mean those magical symbol-things?**_" _Impediment...? Is that like the Impediment Jinx?_

"_**Yes. Originally, there was a Western spell that would inflict a temporary paralysis on its target. Over the past few decades, it was modified several times. The effect was lessened, it stayed on longer, things like that. It's like wearing weights on your body; you benefit more training with it, in both body and magic. Eventually, someone learned how to replicate the same effect with seals.**_"

Harry's jaw dropped. _That's... just what I need. _"_**Could you teach me the spell?**_"

"_**Sure.**_" The girl cheerfully replied, and pulled out her wand. "_**You wave your wand like this...**_"

It was quite an easy spell to learn, but as Harry discovered, difficult to master. It took several minutes before he could apply it at the intensity he wanted, and remove it afterwards. The seal itself couldn't be done without specialized equipment, but knowing the spell was good enough for him.

While he was practicing casting it, his foster parents questioned the girl more about her club's activities. It was impressive to see her demonstrate by firing an energy blast from the palm of her hands, one that sent the practice dummy she used rocking violently back and forth on its support, similar to that Street Fighter game Kousuke had.

"_**How did you do that?**_" He asked after he finished mastering the spell. "_**I didn't see you use a focus.**_"

"_**It's this.**_" She showed him the ring on her right middle finger.

"_**I have one too.**_" Kiriyo added, showing hers as well.

"_**Huh, I thought-...**_" Harry looked between the two girls.

It was Professor Emiya who provided the explanation. "_**Members of the Discipline Committee have certain benefits in order to carry out their responsibilities. Kiriyo was given that ring so she can subdue those who break the rules.**_"

Itaki took over the explanation, with Kiriyo adding a bit of her own from time to time. The focus rings weren't given out as easily as Harry assumed they were, even for members of the Fight Club. Even after all the power checking and contract signing, the rings had inbuilt safeguards to prevent their users abusing them. Hearing all that made him reconsider his impression of Kiriyo; if the fox youkai possessed one of those rings, she would make a formidable opponent.

_Pedophilic tendencies aside... _He added in his head, pointedly ignoring Archer's chuckling and Kiriyo's almost-hungry gaze on him.

Since the rest of the Fight Club wasn't around today, Professor Emiya led them to the next area. Unlike the previous ones, this club took up the space of two clubrooms, the wall separating them having been removed. However, there was a definite distinction between both sides, as one was focused on warding while the other was focused on breaking those wards. And at the moment, both sides were engaged in a standoff against each other; the tension in the air was heavy as a single male student waved his wand over the sealed box in the middle of the two groups facing each other, mumbling incantations under his breath.

After a few moments of watching, the teacher cleared his throat. The sound clearly surprised the student, who flinched and turned his head to look, just as the ward over the box triggered from the interruption.

There were cries of surprise as black ink splattered over the group on the right, the student standing over the box getting the worst of it. Professor Emiya sighed and pulled out his wand, a surprisingly thick brown one that had a curved handle, tapering to a narrow point at the end. He cleared the ink away with a single wave, then tucked the wand back into his coat pocket.

Apparently, it was normal for the two halves of the Barrier Group to compete with each other in such a manner; one side trying to penetrate the wards the other set, with nasty traps woven in. The competition encouraged both sides to improve their skills, to the point that even Harry couldn't comprehend some of their explanations regarding what they did. All he knew that the wards they dealt in functioned in one of three ways: hiding, repelling, or counterattacking. Every match was based on one of the three, but once in a while they would compete with every trick at their disposal. That, as one of the students confided to Harry, was an impressive sight to see.

But they weren't willing to show him all their secrets. It made sense after all; he was a foreigner, and their national pride made them leery of giving away all the stuff they worked for.

_Well, it makes sense. I can understand it myself, being a Magus. _Harry thought as he glanced through what little the students revealed. _Not that I can understand any of this. There's runes with quite a bit of the sealing techniques, but this... all these numbers, I really need to learn Arithmancy to make sense of this._

_So you'll be studying when you get back, I take it. _Archer asked.

_Definitely. I think the bounded fields around the house could use some upgrades. Layering, interlocking... these tricks will be _veryyy_ useful._

A weight settled around his shoulders, along with a warm softness on the back of his neck. "_**Is it that interesting? Maybe I should show you a few of my own...?**_"

Doing his best to ignore Kiriyo's clinging, Harry looked over to his left where he heard his foster mother squawk angrily. Aunt Diana had her hands pressed up against something invisible that evidently blocked her off from the two of them.

_I didn't even sense that bounded field going up! _ Harry thought with a shock.

"_**Wanna know how I did it?**_" She asked him teasingly.

_There's no barrier, Harry. _Archer suddenly said.

_What? But Aunt Diana is-_

_There isn't any. Fox youkais, kitsunes, are said to be tricksters. With great skill in illusions._

That clued Harry in. _Aunt Diana is acting like there's a barrier, but it's just her mind thinking there is._ "_**There's no barrier.**_" He answered.

"_**Correct!**_" Kiriyo's hold on him tightened momentarily. "_**Kyaaa~ I want to bring you home with me~**_"

Something nudged the two of them, pushing them slightly off balance. Kiriyo turned her head to look over her shoulder, and hummed discontentedly, but she released her hold on him. Harry saw it was Kakeru with a long rod in his hand, which he must have used to poke the girl. Next to him stood Professor Emiya, who looked slightly disapproving. She took the hint and distanced herself from Harry, who sighed in relief.

After taking down what notes he could, Harry followed the rest of the crowd to the school cafeteria since it was lunchtime. There, after the teacher accompanying them cleared the visitors to join them for the meal, servers added the dishes they wanted to some rice on a tray. Since there weren't that many students around the school, they each received a larger portion than they normally would. The fare wasn't bad, but it wasn't anything to rave about either.

As Harry looked around at the lunch crowd, he spotted a few more youkais, evident by their inhuman characteristics, comfortably mingling with the human students. Letting his gaze move on so he would not be aught staring, Harry noticed one of them approach Professor Emiya. After a quick exchange of words, the man abandoned his half-eaten meal, telling them he had to rush off somewhere. Almost immediately, Kiriyo volunteered to guide them the rest of the way, and after a moment's hesitation, Professor Emiya agreed. Hardly anybody paid attention to Kaori's protests, except for Kiriyo who took advantage of the chance to subtly taunt the human girl.

Later, as the fox youkai was leading them down a corridor, she started telling them about the place. "_**Do you know that there are seven mysteries surrounding this school?**_"

"_**Seven mysteries?**_" Uncle John asked curiously.

"_**Yes, there are certain places in the school where something mysterious occurs, even without magic. I've been researching into them, and I'd like to show them to you.**_" Kiriyo smirked, and led them to the place where the first one.

They reached a small staircase where there was a sign warning people to watch their step. The girl introduced it as the Tripping Stairs, a staircase that was said to make anybody trip if they counted all thirteen steps while ascending it. Kaori immediately took that challenge, and started counting out each step while the others watched. At the top, she suddenly stumbled for no reason, proving Kiriyo's words.

It was Harry who figured out the trick; his senses manage to detect a cleverly concealed ward that only triggered when someone was counting the number of steps, its only purpose being to distract that person from paying attention to the top step, which had been polished to be incredibly slippery. The natural outcome was that the counter would step on that spot and trip, hence creating the mystery. Kiriyo gave him a tight hug for uncovering the secret.

The next mystery was called the Tears of Blood, regarding a bust in the Arts Room that was said to spontaneously cry blood at times when the air conditioning was turned on. It was Archer who realized the secret first; water would condense on the bust nearest to the air vent, mixing with chemicals found on the eyebrows and the eyes. The former would naturally flow downwards, where they mixed with the latter, creating a chemical reaction that produced a red color. Finally, cleaning enchantments would erase the evidence, completing the spooky trick.

Harry's suspicions were gradually confirmed as they progressed through the next few 'mysteries' while touring the classrooms. A supposedly immovable statue changing its location, the corridor where one door would always stay unlocked, a classroom that appeared upside down when viewed from a certain window; all of them involved magic, but not in any obvious way. The statue was found to move due to a powerful magnet beneath the floor, one that made it impossible to move normally, but easy to do so if you knew how to shift the magnet. The doors had a linked system that would automatically trigger when all of them were locked, causing a pin to push the bolt in one of the locks back. The trick behind the classroom turned out to be a light-refracting ward set up between the branches of the two trees outside the window, which flipped the image that reached the window. All of them had a manmade quality about them.

"_**The next two 'real' mysteries, the Twilight Eye and Shadow Beast only come out in the evening, so let's go on with the rest of the tour~**_"

Harry finally couldn't resist confronting the girl on it. "_**These mysteries... they were set up by someone, right?**_"

She smiled and pointed at him. "_**Ding ding! Correct!**_"

"Wait, did she just say that all of those were made by somebody?" Aunt Diana asked her husband, who nodded. "Then-"

Kakeru suddenly stiffened. "_**Shit!**_" A moment later, Kaori echoed the same curse.

Everyone turned to face the two of them. "_**What's wrong?**_" Kiriyo asked.

"_**Someone just broke through the wards back at the compound. I need to go investigate.**_" Kakeru turned around. "_**Kaori, you stay here.**_"

"_**No, I'm coming along!**_" The girl insisted.

He eyed her for a moment, then nodded. "_**Let's go.**_"

The pair of them ran off, heading for the gateway. Harry saw that his foster parents were looking worried themselves. They continued on with the tour, but the mood had been wrecked already. In the end, they decided to cut the tour short and head back to the Shikados' house. Kiriyo showed them how to purchase the tags, and they walked through the gateway back to Nara.

Harry couldn't help getting a bad feeling as they followed the directions to head back to the mundane side of the city, and eventually it got so strong that he asked to check in on the Kusakabes when the family reached the entrance. Uncle John and Aunt Diana were reluctant, but gave in after he insisted.

_What is this awful feeling? _Harry thought as he dashed through the bamboo forest.

_Be careful, Harry. _Archer warned. _If someone broke through the bounded fields they had, that means that whoever they are, they're skilled._

_I know. _Harry replied grimly, sending a trickle of prana through his circuits. "Synchro Start." He muttered under his breath, enhancing his body condition further with Archer's assistance.

Turning a corner, Harry stopped in shock at the sight of the house; there were chunks torn out of the wood in several places, some clearly from spell damage, and deep gouges in the ground that looked like something big and ferocious had made them. He felt Archer take control of his eyes to scan the area, and spotted the slumped form at the same time the spirit did. Seeing no one lying in wait, he approached the body.

With a start, he realized that it wasn't Kakeru at all, but someone else entirely. And he had seen this person before.

"Cliffe?" Harry murmured the name of the man he had met just yesterday. _Why's he- There's so much _blood. He looked at his stained hand, where he had touched the man's body.

There was a soft groan, and the man's eyes fluttered open. "No... trap... still here..." He muttered weakly.

Archer, taking control of Harry's body, instantly reacted by diving aside, just as the boy himself noticed the tiny whistling sound. Several gray missiles embedded themselves into the ground where he just was, some of them striking the man, making him jerk before falling deathly still. Tracing Kanshou and Bakuya, Harry/Archer deflected several more of them shooting out from something in the trees.

_Those are... feathers? _Harry blinked as he realized just what they were. _But-_

He heard a slithering sound behind him and instantly whirled around, barely managing to parry a long sting from some creature. His Reinforced eyes caught sight of the second attacker just as it slipped into the house to hide; it looked like a combination of a snake and woman, with the long serpentine body replacing the lower body of the woman.

_What are they? _Harry wondered, moving to take down the second attacker, judging that confronting the first one would be too disadvantageous.

_I don't know, but keep an eye out. There may be more of them. _Keeping the blades ready, Archer stepped into the house.

The attack came almost right away, as a stinger-tipped tail darted towards him. They blocked the first stab, then deflected a second to rush straight at the attacker before it could launch a third. It screeched and slashed at him with sharp claws, halting their advance.

_The scales are hard. _Harry noticed, then realized something else. _Archer..._

_Yeah, she's not aiming to kill. All those attacks were aimed away from the vital parts. _Archer narrowed his eyes at the slightly oily texture on those nails. _She's intending to capture, I think._

The tail attacked again, but instead of pulling back after being blocked by Bakuya, it tried to coil around the body. Archer slipped out before it could tighten, pushing the strong limb aside. Quickly crossing his blades, he severed the tail with a scissoring motion, prompting the creature to hiss in apparent pain.

"_**WHERE ARE THEY?**_" Harry picked that moment to roar. "_**WHERE DID YOU TAKE THEM?**_"

By raising his voice, he was hoping to startle the creature while asking the question, but he received no reply. Seeing that the loss of its tail was hampering its movement, they charged forward, prepared to wound it further.

He didn't expect another tail to suddenly pierce through the floor and strike him around the legs, tripping him. Before Harry could recover, the part of the tail he cut off whipped around to jab into his neck. Darkness quickly overtook his vision, and he knew no more afterwards.

* * *

(1) This is my assumption, considering that Shirou (the eventual Archer) wasn't a conventional mage and thus wouldn't have much interaction with the organizations.

(2) This idea came from Mx0, but there's no reason why it couldn't be applied to Harry Potter or even other magic school universes. A plant gives off gas, and this method would concentrate it. I also admit that I drew some inspiration from that series regarding the clubs of Mahoutokoro.

(3) True fact. I read about this in some library book years ago; there's a brief mention about it on Wikipedia, under the Antiseptics section of Joseph Lister, 1st Baron Lister. What applies in karate doesn't apply to medicine, I must say...

Firstly, I'd like to wish all everyone a Happy Chinese New Year! Hope you all got lots of red packets.

Well, this chapter was long in the making, especially since my muse has been swept away by the harsh reality of school. I also made a slight mistake with selecting my modules, and now have to take more in order to graduate. Needless to say, it'll be tough to write regularly. Aside from that, I mentioned it before, but practically all of what I write is due to the random whims of my muse. Introducing an organization of Alchemists? (No, it's not the FMA type, in case you're wondering) Inserting a version of Emiya Kiritsugu? Pitting him against a threat in a foreign land? These are all the things my subconscious provided, and I did my best to mix them in. To be honest, I'm not very clear on where I'm going to develop this, but I hope my readers will bear with me as I try to explore where this line of plot will develop to.

There were other things I was intending to write, but I've forgotten them now. The only thing I can think of is that there should be another two more chapters before he heads back to England, after which it'll resume to near-canon events.

Please leave your reviews, guys! Let me know what you think of my presentation of Mahoutokoro.


	28. Fourth Enchantment

Harry recognized where he was almost immediately on opening his eyes. Closing them, he groaned, "Not again."

"Yes again." Despite the words used, Archer's tone was definitely not amused. "You were careless."

Harry sat up, nodding. "I didn't expect the severed tail to suddenly move again."

Archer grunted in response. The older man was a short distance away, currently examining one of his blades, a silvery longsword with rubies in its hilt, Gryffindor's sword. It took Harry a while to recall where he had seen it before, and he naturally asked about it.

"Does that sword have any special abilities?"

He received a glance in reply before Archer's gaze returned to the sword. "Somewhat. It's made from goblin silver, which is just regular silver enchanted with several abilities."

"Like what?" Harry asked curiously.

Archer closed his eyes and stabbed the blade back into the ground. "For one, it's unbreakable by normal means and doesn't require cleaning since it repels dust, but..."

"But?" Harry pressed after Archer didn't finish speaking.

"The last property... it incorporates properties from that it cuts into itself, strengthening it further."

"That's..." Harry trailed off as he thought about it. "Doesn't that mean it's quite powerful?"

Archer nodded. "It is. The actual blade has been used to block so many spells that it can practically cut through any physical and magical defenses, and some of the liquids it was treated with made it quite poisonous as well." He spoke stoically, and Harry picked up on that.

"Then what is it about the sword that's bothering you?"

"All of those properties come from the life essence of a goblin."

Harry was shocked to hear that. "Wait, what? Are you saying that a goblin died to make that sword? Is it like a Horcrux?" The boy asked, looking around and spotting a few of the other goblin-made weapons that he and Archer had encountered during their visits to Gringotts.

Archer shook his head. "No and no. It's the same as a master blacksmith putting his soul into crafting a blade, giving it a life of its own. What that essence does makes the weapons similar to how a goblin is like." Archer stepped away from Gryffindor's sword, walking towards Harry. "Those three properties I mentioned... they define the goblin culture at its basic level."

Harry thought about it. "Unbreakable... I suppose it comes from their spirit. Repelling dust and dirt... their honor? But the last one..." He trailed off slowly.

"Greed." Archer answered. "There's a strong feeling of 'want' in that sword. Personally, I don't like it." The man shook his head. "Anyway, let's focus on what's important here. You're still alive, so that probably means you were either left behind or captured."

Harry shifted into his serious side as well. "I think captured is more likely. That Cliffe guy, the way he warned me made it sound as though those who would target me, would do so because I have something they want."

The two of them looked at Harry's left wrist, where the watch he had received from the Flamels would be on his actual body.

"What about the enemies?" Harry changed the subject. "Apart from the lamias (1), there was one that I couldn't see, but it shot feathers like bullets. I don't know of any magical creatures that can do that except... those birds that Hercules had to get rid of in one of his twelve labors. But those are supposed to be extinct, if they really existed."

"Stymphalian birds." Archer supplied. "Both come from Greece. But why would Greek monsters show up in Japan?"

"That's the thing." Harry frowned, hunching slightly as he considered what he knew so far. "I don't think lamias had stingers on their tails either..."

Whatever Archer was about to say in reply was interrupted was Harry's body jerked, a shock running through it. The next thing he knew, Harry was blinking up at the ceiling, looking at a slightly bruised face gazing down at him.

"_**Harry, are you okay?**_" Kakeru asked, worry in his voice.

"What... what's going on?" Harry groaned, suddenly feeling very fatigued and achy. "Where... where am I?" He turned his head, still lying down, to look around the room.

_Yep, I was captured. _He realized with a bit of resignation.

_Get your bearings first. You can focus on breaking out later. _Archer advised.

He saw that he was currently in a cell of some sort, with smooth gray walls all around. The only source of light came from the single glowing disk in the center of the ceiling, casting faint shadows around the place. Turning his head the other way, he spotted a beaten up-looking Kaori sitting in a corner, her clothes slightly ripped.

"_**What you looking at?**_" She growled when she saw him staring at her, but there wasn't much bite in her words.

"_**Kaori, enough. We don't need any fighting amongst ourselves.**_" Kakeru ordered tiredly before turning back to Harry. "_**Can you sit up?**_"

Harry nodded, and was helped up to a sitting position. Now that he had a larger viewing angle, he saw that there were no doors to the cell they were in. He also saw Cliffe, although the man was currently in a fitful sleep, bloodstained bandages wrapped around his torso.

"_**He came in together with you. I had to fix up his bandages, or he would have been dead by now. Anyway, why are you even here?**_"

Harry started to explain, almost wincing as he realized how stupid he had been to rush into danger like that. The look of slight disappointment Kakeru gave him pained him slightly, but he wasn't scolded. Once he was done, it was Kakeru's turn to give his side of the story. After they had gone through the gate, the pair of them had come across the beings Harry encountered taking the Re'em away. Naturally they had fought, but were knocked out when something hit them from behind with drugged darts in the shape of feathers. They then found themselves in the cell when they woke up, bereft of their equipment.

_Good thing I didn't let those hit me. _Harry thought.

_I don't think it makes much difference now, Harry. _Archer pointed out dryly. _You still got yourself captured, _He glanced at Harry's bare left wrist through the boy's eyes. _And lost your own things too._

_Whoever these guys are, they managed to get through the protections on my stuff. _Harry noted that his wand was gone, along with the wrist holster it was in.

_There's always someone better, Harry. _Archer reminded him.

It was obvious that they had been stripped of anything useful by people who knew what they were doing, and according to Kakeru, the cell they were in had magic dampeners, preventing them from performing any spells that might help them escape.

"_**Not that we've got anything to cast with.**_" Kaori interjected.

Harry blinked. _Synchro, Start. _He felt Archer align together with him, and held out his hand. "Trace... On!"

Kanshou materialized in his hand, to the shock of all those watching, but before Harry could do anything, it suddenly shattered, dissipating into raw prana that faded away rapidly.

"_**How did you do that? You cast a spell without your wand!**_" Kaori asked, her eyes wide open with surprise, despite having seen Harry do wandless magic before.

Harry didn't answer her, focused on analyzing the situation instead. _The anti-magic field is actually a draining field. Reinforcement of my body... isn't affected. It targets raw prana, any that isn't contained within a vessel. _Crouching down, he sent a trickle of prana into the floor, and quickly cut the flow off when he felt something tug on it, trying to increase the amount he was putting in. _Archer, any thoughts?_

_A draining bounded field like this can't be set up easily. Considering that you aren't being drained as well, your captors clearly want you alive for a reason. _The spirit mused.

Harry was disturbed by the feeling of a ward that was beyond his level to craft, and hearing Archer's opinion on it unnerved him further. _I was asking about ideas to get out, but thanks for that anyway. _He was distracted from the mental conversation when he felt someone poke him painfully in the shoulder.

"_**Oi, are you listening? How did you make that sword?**_" Kaori demanded.

"_**My own brand of magic.**_" He lied. "_**I figured a few things out.**_" Harry explained what he inferred about the anti-magic field on the room.

Kakeru tilted his head thoughtfully. "_**So any swords you create will get broken down before you can use them... this is troublesome.**_"

"_**I don't want to know what they're going to do with us.**_" Kaori declared, shivering slightly.

They began discussing ways to escape, and Harry learned several things about the cell they were in; where the opening was when he had been brought in, the substance-repelling spell on the walls that prevented Kakeru from painting any seals that could enable their escape (lacking ink, he used his own blood), even if he could have channeled the required magic to power them. Things were starting to look as though they had no choice but to wait for their captors to come for them, and attempt to overpower them then.

_What about Alchemy? _Archer suddenly suggested. _It doesn't function the way normal magic does, because it's not you, it's Gaia that's doing the work._

_But won't the draining field break down the miniature field before it can work? And I can't draw on the-_ Harry stopped as he remembered he had another way to perform Alchemy.

_That's right. Your Mystic Eye. It's worth a try, at least. _

"_**Zoning out again... can this kid really do anything?**_" Kaori complained.

Kakeru raised a hand to stop her. "_**Now, Kaori, I think Harry might have an idea.**_"

Harry stood up and faced the wall where the door was supposed to be. "Here goes..." He muttered to himself.

Prana jolted through the circuit in his left eye, and he glared at the smooth grey surface. Normal Alchemy worked by rewriting the natural laws within a bounded field, and Gaia would do the rest. Normally those laws would take time to be rewritten, but with his Mystic Eye, he could cut the time down to a fraction of a second. Still, with the draining field sapping away at the boundary while he poured prana in to maintain it, Harry was visibly panting by the time the wall deconstructed itself into fine powder, several veins throbbing dangerously around his left eye.

"Gggghhh... Haaaa..." Harry finally cut the flow of prana and relaxed, bringing one hand up to cup his throbbing eye.

"_**Amazing.**_" Kakeru spoke for both himself and Kaori, who was speechless. "_**But it looks like it was tiring for you. You okay?**_"

"_**I'll be fine.**_" Harry waved him off. "_**More importantly, let's get out quick, before anyone notices.**_"

They put Cliffe on Kakeru's back, while Kaori poked her head out of the room to look. "_**No one's around. Let's go!**_"

Archer noted that the corridor outside the cell was plain, but lined with stainless steel plates, giving it a high-tech appearance that belied its magical nature. _Harry, the anti-magic field doesn't extend outside the room. You can use Tracing now._

_Got it. _"Trace, On!" Kanshou and Bakuya appeared, and Harry took the lead.

"_**Oi, you can make swords, right? Give me a katana.**_" Kaori called out to him.

Harry nodded and Traced the katana that Kakeru had faced him with, right down to the sheath. He tossed it over to the girl, who drew it. She gave him a suspicious look, clearly recognizing the blade, but didn't say anything. He did catch her exchanging glances with Kakeru, though.

"_**Do you have any idea where we're going?**_" Kaori asked after they followed the corridor through a few turns.

"_**None, but this has to lead somewhere, right?**_"

"_**Better than nothing, I guess.**_" She said grudgingly.

They finally arrived at a fork in the path, and stopped. There wasn't any clues to what was down either route.

"_**Do you remember anything? Like when you were taken here?**_" Harry asked, his head turning back and forth between the two paths.

"_**None.**_"

"_**Ri...right...**_" A weak voice muttered.

Everybody's heads turned to the one who had spoken; Cliffe was awake. His eyes were half-lidded and glazed, but he seemed aware of his surroundings.

"_**What's down there?**_" Kakeru asked.

"_**My... weapon... I feel it...**_" It seemed difficult for him to talk.

Kakeru nodded. "_**Okay, don't talk anymore. Just rest.**_" Turning to the other two, he continued, "_**We might find our things there as well.**_"

Harry and Kaori agreed, and they headed down the right path. Occasionally, they would glance back at the man on Kakeru's back, but Cliffe appeared to have passed out once again.

The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, just like the previous one, with no door or vent in sight. Still, Harry didn't let his guard down; getting taken by surprise once was enough already. And with the way the sound of their footsteps were echoing through the place, he had no doubts that anyone would notice their approach before they even came within the range of sight.

There was a twitch; Harry stopped running, so suddenly that Kaori had to twist aside to avoid running him down.

"_**What the hell are you doing, you idiot!**_" She screamed at him.

"_**Here...**_ _**Sensed it, didn't you...**_" Cliffe's weak voice interrupted her tirade before it could get started.

It was like a small tingle somewhere inside his body, alerting Harry to the hidden room behind the wall he was looking at. Without even pausing to think, he Reinforced his weapons and sliced through the obstacle, before kicking the pieces through to make an opening.

There was a hiss of warning, causing Archer to react immediately; two whirling blades, one silver and one black, shot towards the charging creature. There was a cry of pain as they sliced deeply into its body, but the upper half of a woman's body had moved enough to avoid anything fatal.

"_**Move!**_" Harry leapt aside at the sound of Kaori's snapped out command, and raised both hands to point at the lamia. "_**Kusakabe Special Technique: ZAN!**_"

There was a narrow flash of light as Kaori moved in a flicker of motion, and the upper part of the human torso shifted slightly off a horizontal plane, having been cut through cleanly. Two black balls slammed into the distorted female face, and the cut off part flew off to land on the ground.

Harry kept his hands up and ready to fire. "_**Cut the tail into small pieces, it can still move!**_" He urged Kaori, who quickly did as he told her to.

When it came to putting down the severed upper half, Harry wavered slightly, so Archer took over and drove Kanshou into the neck of the creature.

"_**What is this thing?**_" Kaori wondered, prodding at a portion of the tail with the katana in her hand. "_**There's no blood. Is it even alive?**_"

Kakeru came over, after putting Cliffe down in a corner. Bending down slightly, he turned one of the pieces over with his foot. "_**A magical construct... or something like that, I think. There's something else making up the body.**_"

"Homun...culi..." Cliffe coughed. "_**Beings created... through Alchemy...**_" He added, this time in Japanese.

"_**Sensei! Our stuff is over there!**_" Kaori called from the wall, where several cabinets were. She was standing in front of an open one. "_**Hey brat, I don't need your sword anymore.**_"

Harry absently dismissed the conjured blade, most of his attention focused on the room. It looked like a cross between a lab and a storage room, with giant glass tubes and machinery on one side, and various shelves and cabinets on the other.

_Doesn't really look like the place of someone that uses magic. _Harry thought as he scanned the surroundings for any more threats.

_That sounds a bit like a stereotype. _Archer observed, although the spirit was also on the alert for danger.

_Hm, you're right. I guess these people were able to combine magic and technology. _"_**Hey,**_" Harry called out to the two Japanese people, "_**Are my watch and wand there?**_"

"_**Hold on...**_" There were sounds of rummaging before Kaori answered, "_**Your wand's here, but I don't see a watch. Catch.**_"

Harry turned slightly to nab the wand holster out of the air, which he put back onto his arm. "_**Thanks. Now...**_"

"Kid..." He turned to look at Cliffe, who had just spoken. "Look over there..." The man pointed over to the right with a shaking arm.

There was a brief pause as Harry scrutinized the man, trying to figure out his objectives, before he moved off in the direction the man had pointed out.

"_**Harry, don't go off alone. That thing might not be the only one.**_" Kakeru warned, walking up with his retrieved katana and a first aid kit.

"No!" Cliffe forced out, struggling to straighten up. "You need to get them back...! Ggah!" The man flinched as his forced motion caused his body pain.

"Don't move." Kakeru told him sternly in English. "You're hurt."

"_**Kakeru-san, I think he knows something about what's going on. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.**_" Before Kakeru could stop him, Harry moved off to see just what Cliffe was directing him towards.

_Stay alert. _Archer warned, the two of them moving in concert.

The twitch he felt back then happened again, and Harry altered his course slightly to head straight for the source. _I'm starting to think Nicolas didn't tell me everything about the watch he gave me. Protections against removal by other people, bow form with magical shots, indestructible, _Harry listed off the abilities he knew about, _Not once did he say, "You'll be able to sense where it is if it's taken off you."_

_Well, aren't you touchy today... _Archer's tone was measured, half trying to rile Harry up as part of his usual test of temper, half chiding, a reminder to stay in control.

_Touch? Of course I'm touchy. _Harry groused in reply. _I didn't expect to be targeted by some monster-creating organization while on vacation. No, sir, I don't mind, just knock me out and throw me into a cell-_

_Harry. _Archer turned serious as he caught sight of what was ahead of them first, and the boy stopped complaining to look as well.

Up ahead, something was rising from the ground, like a display case being pulled out into the open for all to see. Harry's eyes widened as he caught sight of his watch; it was suspended over a pedestal with a glowing circle in its center, seemingly held up by the faint beam of light cast from the circle. However, it was nearly unrecognizable; it looked like somebody had smashed it several times with a hammer, causing it to flatten out in a starburst shape in several sections, yet when Harry took a closer look, he realized that what appeared to be random destruction looked more like intricate unfolding.

"Heh heh heh..." Harry looked around frantically to see where the dry chuckling had come from, but saw no one. "Coming across you really was a stroke of luck, _**boya**_." The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.

_Japanese accent... _Harry realized from the speaker's words. "Who are you? What's your aim?"

The voice continued to speak, ignoring his question. "I never expected to have a creation from Nicolas Flamel himself, fall right into my hands..." He could tell it was a man now, but only that.

Harry had the sinking feeling in his chest, the one that told him he was in trouble. The last time he felt it, it was while watching the diary Horcrux form itself into Papermort. _I walked straight into a trap... Archer, any idea where he is?_

The spirit shook his head. _He's concealing his presence effectively, I have no idea where he is either._

"What did you do to my watch, damn it!" Harry yelled, hoping that Kakeru and Kaori would hear and quickly come to where he was.

"_**Shit! Sensei, it's regenerating!**_" Kaori's scream, softened by distance, made Harry look back where the other three were in alarm, even as the sounds of fighting started up.

Before he could take a step towards their direction, two lamias appeared from behind the large machines, cutting him off. Harry immediately Traced his swords, and raised his guard. However, they didn't make any move to attack, but simply hissed at him instead. Inside, he shuddered at the sight of such sharp-looking fangs on those human faces.

"Aren't they pretty? My homunculi..." The voice was speaking again, caressing the words like they were precious to him. "Imperfect, yet so impressive in their own right..."

Harry slowly backed up, as the lamias continued to close in. "Who _are _you?"

"Makiri." This time, the voice had a clear source; a wizened old man, nearly a foot shorter than Harry, stepped out of the shadows to Harry's left. "Makiri Zouken. And you... are going to die, _**boya**_."

That was when everything went crazy.

* * *

Archer knew that there were similarities between his original world and Harry's one, especially since it was proven in the meeting with Emiya Kiritsugu. While it was an alternate version of the man that had adopted him as his son so very long ago, it was hard to tell if there was even any difference. And now another alternate had shown himself.

He knew his version of the small wrinkled geriatric as Matou Zouken, the reclusive grandfather of his female friend Matou Sakura. It was six years since he last saw her, when he had been summoned into the Fifth Grail War, and even longer than that when he was still a naive teenager named Emiya Shirou. But he was aware that Sakura's family was one of the three magus families involved in the creation of the Holy Grail and the war surrounding it, back when their family name was still Makiri. He didn't find out about the dark history behind their family Magecraft until it was too late to save Sakura, not that he could have done anything about it.

This version clearly lacked the normal moral ethics regarding human life, if Archer's suspicions about the origins of these homunculi were right. But he didn't have the liberty to make any further comparisons; he and Harry were about to fight for their combined lives. The homunculi were beyond the speed and strength of normal humans, enough to pose a threat even in a Reinforced State, and he was up against two of them. In addition, he had no idea about what combat ability Makiri Zouken had, but the way he had shown himself in front of Harry spoke of the old man's confidence in facing whatever threat Harry and Archer might pose.

Both of them were expecting the homunculi to charge them and attempt to kill Harry by either impaling or crushing him with their tails, the best strategy to end his life without coming into range of his swords. That was why they were surprised when the heads of the homunculi exploded with two loud bangs, something that Archer identified a beat later as the result of some projectile.

"_**WHAT? Who did that?**_" Makiri shouted, his head whipping from side to side as the bodies of his homunculi collapsed.

Harry was still surprised, which was why it was Archer who went into action the next moment. The spirit had no idea why the old man considered the Flamel watch so important, but since he did, the logical course of action was to deprive the old man of it. The young body moved on the will of its passenger, darting over to the pedestal and grabbing the broken watch from where it floated. With his fingers of his right hand holding it against the handle of the sword, Archer leapt away to create distance between him and the old man.

Both Harry and Archer's eyes widened when they saw a familiar brown coat fade into view in front of them. _Why is HE here? _Both of them wondered simultaneously, staring at Emiya Kiritsugu.

But what caught their attention next was the large gun held in the man's outstretched hand, aimed straight at Makiri Zouken. Before anyone could react, the machine gun spat a burst of bullets straight into the small wizened body. Harry watched in shock as the old man's form shook from the multiple impacts, before falling over backwards.

Kiritsugu took two steps forward, keeping his gun trained on the fallen body. Once again, the gun opened fire, reducing Makiri's head to an unrecognizable mess of splatters. The sound of gunfire echoed deafeningly around the room, stretching on agonizingly long as Kiritsugu kept the trigger pulled, adjusting his aim to pepper the rest of the body as well.

Harry swallowed, trying to form words. He had never seen such cold-blooded brutality before; Kiritsugu didn't even hesitate when the machine gun ran out of bullets, instead ejecting the clip and loading a new one, before continuing to fire into the mangled corpse.

"St..." He swallowed again. "STOP! _**STOP IT!**_" Harry yelled, his grip tightening on the swords.

Kiritsugu finally stopped firing, lowering his gun. His head turned to study Harry, and the boy shivered slightly at the lack of emotion in those eyes.

"_**It's not his real body.**_"

Harry blinked, trying not to look at what was previously the body of an old man. "What?"

"_**The body was fake, just a simple doll, made by Alchemy. But it's still dangerous if it's not put down hard. The real one-**_" Kiritsugu explained, eyes darting around to look at the surroundings.

"_**Was never here in the first place.**_" Makiri's voice spoke from everywhere, just like it had when Harry had first heard it. "_**You've caused me quite a bit of trouble, Emiya. I do-**_"

Kiritsugu was already moving, striding past Harry, even as Makiri made threats. "_**We need to get out of here. Follow me.**_"

It took Harry only a split-second to make up his mind. _Guess we can trust him, Archer. _He thought, starting after Kiritsugu.

_Guess so. _The spirit replied dubiously.

The trip back to join up with Kakeru, Kaori and Cliffe was short, but harrowing. Makiri wasn't lying about wanting them dead; several more lamias and patchwork humans with blades for limbs kept appearing out of the shadows trying to kill the two of them. Kiritsugu fired shotguns he pulled out of his coat, which obviously had some kind of extension charm on its insides, discarding them as they ran out of ammunition. Still, there were too many for him to take on alone, forcing Archer to assist in taking them out. The two of them fell into a pattern without having to speak; Harry would keep the monsters away with his thrown blades, as well as preventing them from dodging so Kiritsugu could put them down with a well-placed shot.

"_**Protect that watch.**_" The man instructed Harry tersely during a brief lull in the conflict.

They heard the others before they saw them. "_**Where are they all coming from!?**_" Kaori shrieked. "_**Enough already!**_"

The look on relief on their faces when Harry and Kiritsugu fought their way to their side was so strong that Harry almost sighed in empathy. Kakeru didn't seem too surprised to see Kiritsugu, but Kaori yelled in shock. Cliffe was unconscious, lying between the other two as they defended his body.

"_**How do we get out?**_" Kakeru asked urgently.

Kiritsugu reached into his coat and pulled out a chain in the form of a loop, and Harry instantly realized it was a Portkey. "_**Grab on!**_" He barked.

"_**Kaori, help that man!**_" Kakeru ordered, and the girl quickly grabbed Cliffe's hand and pressed his fingers closed around a section of the chain, grabbing hold of it as well.

"_**I'll buy time!**_" Archer spoke, and began Tracing and flinging out his usual swords as fast as he could.

Kanshou and Bakuya were bonded blades, and because of that, they had a property that allowed one to attract the other, allowing for Archer to throw one and have it return to him, as long as he held the other. With his Tracing, he could make even more copies, and those copies would affect the already released ones, making their flight path almost impossible to predict. And at this current moment, all of the released blades created a circle that would cut anything that came within its borders.

"_**Hurry!**_" Kiritsugu barked.

Whirling around, Harry grasped the chain with his left hand, feeling Archer withdraw his control over their shared body.

"_**Evacuate!**_" The command triggered the Portkey, and Harry felt the hooking feeling behind his navel.

The howling wind made him close his eyes reflexively, but he could feel bodies bumping into him on other side; it appeared that they managed to get out without any problems. All that was left was the landing, and Harry made that with only the slightest stumble when his feet slammed into bumpy, grass-covered ground. He took several steps forward...

And ran face-first into something soft and oddly familiar.

"_**Kyah~**_" A voice Harry heard only a short while ago squealed, and something wrapped around his head, forcing him deeper into the suffocating cushions. "_**How bold~**_"

"_**Kiriyo. This isn't the time for that.**_" Kiritsugu ordered from somewhere behind them. "_**There's trouble incoming.**_"

The arms of the fox youkai released Harry, and he quickly sucked in air. Glancing upwards, he saw that it really was Kiriyo in front of him, though she was dressed in a priestess outfit instead of the school uniform he had last seen her in. Her serious expression was also a new look that didn't match his last memory of the energetic girl.

"_**Yes, Sensei. I'll call Obaa-sama right away.**_" Kiriyo hurried off without even a nod.

_Harry, we need answers. _Archer spoke up suddenly.

_You're right, Archer. _Harry turned to look at Kiritsugu, who was tucking the chain back into his coat. "_**Emiya-sensei, what's-**_"

"_**Talk later.**_" The man glanced around at Kakeru and Kaori, who were also giving him questioning looks. "_**First, we need to let the elder know about Makiri.**_"

With that, he started off in the same direction Kiriyo went, and the others, seeing no other alternative, followed after him, with Kakeru hefting Cliffe onto his back. Harry took the chance to study his surroundings more closely, with Kakeru and Kaori doing the same. None of them were willing to let their guards down anytime soon, since they had gone from one unknown location to another.

It was nighttime, but there were several motes of white light floating around the place to provide illumination. The Portkey had brought them to a clearing in a forest, and from the looks of the flattened grass beneath their feet, that was the purpose of the clearing. The direction Kiritsugu was heading in led to a traditional-style village, and Harry could pick out several youkai out in the streets, their inhuman ancestry obvious by certain physical traits on their bodies.

"_**What's this place?**_" Kaori asked in a whisper.

"_**I don't know.**_" Kakeru replied. "_**One of the youkai settlements, perhaps.**_"

Kiritsugu came to a stop just outside the boundary of the village, and stood there patiently. It was obvious that he had done so in order to avoid provoking any of the youkai who had already noticed him. Harry could already see several of them cast suspicious and wary glances in their direction.

Luckily, they didn't have long to wait. Another fox youkai came for them, this one a blonde with two tails. She didn't give her name, but simply told them to follow and walked off without waiting for a reply. Harry and the rest were led through the village, eventually coming to a large flight of stairs leading up a hill. Ascending it, they found themselves in front of a mansion. Several more youkais of different types appeared, and escorted them into a medium-sized meeting hall. A pair of them took Cliffe away, promising to care for his wounds.

Seeing the other three sit down on the cushions provided in the Japanese seiza position (2), Harry imitated them. _This position puts a lot of pressure on my legs..._

_Some families train their children to get used to it from a young age. _Archer informed him, takingthe chance to look around the hall through Harry's eyes. _Someone's behind the screen._

Archer's warning drew Harry's attention to the hanging screen in front of the group. Just like the spirit said, there was a faint silhouette visible through the gaps between the thin bamboo slats, indicating that someone was taking a seat there.

There was a sudden loud noise like a giant wind blowing through the room, except Harry didn't feel anything, but the lights in the general area dimmed while a brighter one came on behind the hanging screen, casting the shadow of the person sitting on an elevated stage behind it. The bulky figure suggested several layers of clothing, but no one could mistake the gender for anything but female.

"_**Report.**_" The woman ordered, her voice melodiously cultured.

Kiritsugu started speaking, without any change in expression. "_**As suspected, Makiri was building up an army of homunculi. The estimated number is approaching a thousand.**_" The speed of his speaking increased as he went on, and Harry lost track of what was being said.

Archer caught every word though. _He sabotaged the production to prevent more homunculi from being produced, but- _The spirit broke off, suddenly tense, when the woman replied.

Harry picked up the shift in mood. _What's wrong?_

_Makiri will be attacking this location. Soon._

_WHAT? _Harry was shocked, and glanced up at the woman. _Just how is this going to happen?_

_Let me listen first. _Archer went silent as both of them focused on the conversation.

It didn't take long for Archer to understand the main points of the issue. Explaining it to Harry was a slightly more difficult task though, and by the time he was done, Kiritsugu had finished his report, and was waiting for the final decision to be made.

Makiri Zouken had been building up an army to take control of the Nexus, the secret place which was responsible for the functioning of the gates all across Japan; with it under his control, he could not only prevent opposing troops from gathering to mount a resistance against any invasion plan he might have, but have a way to attack any location that had a gate. And destroying the gates was out of the question because of the importance of them in conveying supplies to each prefecture. But because of Kiritsugu's raid on Makiri Zouken's base, the old wizard had been forced to mobilize his army sooner than he had planned to. To top things off, he had implemented a disruptor spell, making it impossible for reinforcements to arrive anytime soon.

_So he plans to strike quickly before the Nexus's defenses are ready, _Harry realized, _Then why did you- Oh. This place is the Nexus, isn't it?_

_That's right. _Archer confirmed. _We're in the place Makiri is targeting._

Harry sighed, closing his eyes. _You know... of all things I expected when I came to Japan, I definitely did not expect to get caught in a war._

_I don't think you can call this a war. Maybe a skirmish instead. _Archer corrected absently, his mind focused on the severity of the current situation.

Harry didn't reply. The lights switched back to the original lighting from when they had first entered, casting shadows in the area behind the screen. More youkai attendants came in to escort them out, and led them to two separate smaller rooms, both clearly meant for guests; Kaori went into one of them. They informed the group that a bath and fresh clothes would soon be prepared for them, and asked them to wait momentarily.

Kakeru stopped one to ask about Cliffe, and the female youkai promised to check for him. Joining Kiritsugu and Harry at the table, he looked at the man who had rescued them. "_**First, I would like to thank you for helping us out, even if you did not need to.**_"

Harry nodded and muttered thanks of his own.

"_**But if it's possible, I would like an explanation regarding this whole turn of events. What exactly was Makiri doing in that place?**_"

"_**As far as I've been able to uncover, Makiri has been using Alchemy to build homunculi, artificial life.**_"

Harry frowned. "_**I know a little about that.**_" He interrupted, "_**Without an actual soul, they won't last beyond a year.**_" It was something he heard about in his conversations with the Flamels.

"_**I'll take your word for it.**_" Kiritsugu replied. "_**However, his homunculi are designed for combat, which is why they have claws and stingers, and are extremely sturdy.**_"

He broke off when the youkai attendants arrived, and soon they were soaking in a large bathtub. Harry briefly thought about his foster parents; they were certain to be worrying about him at the moment. However, Kiritsugu was continuing his explanation.

"_**I found certain reports in his base detailing the export of these homunculi as living weapons, which is how he got his funding. However, before I could escape unnoticed, I discovered your presence.**_"

Harry nodded, realizing that Kiritsugu might have saved their lives. "_**But where do you come into this?**_"

The man gave him a sidelong look. "_**Independent contractor working for the Yakumo clan, who have been watching Makiri for a while.**_"

"_**The Yakumo clan?**_" Kakeru said with some surprise. "_**I never thought they really existed... so this is their land?**_"

Kiritsugu didn't reply, but it was obvious what the answer was.

"_**What is the Yakumo clan?**_" Harry asked Kakeru, seeing that Kiritsugu wasn't going to say anything.

Kakeru rearranged the towel on his head. "_**All I know is that they're said to be the clan that's holding the most power among all the magical clans in Japan, but because they don't use it, no one knows for sure if they really exist or not. That's all I know.**_"

_That's it? They must be really well-hidden... _Harry thought.

_Not just that, Harry. _Archer pointed out. _The Nexus is on their land, so what does that tell you?_

Harry's eyes widened. _They're responsible for the gates! Just how powerful are they?_

Before he could ponder that question, the attendants returned to call them out. Harry got out, and dressed himself in the cream-colored kimono that was provided for the three of them; Kiritsugu was informed that his Western-style clothes would be cleaned and returned to him in short order, leaving him no choice but to don the provided clothes as well. Their equipment was left untouched, something all were relieved to see.

After Kaori rejoined them, they were led through another set of confusing hallways once again (Harry had lost track of the path they had taken, but the attendants always seemed to know where they were going), passing by a two-tailed cat youkai wearing a green cap running with a ball in the opposite direction, before finally arriving at a wooden-floored room with a large table in the center, occupied by several other important-looking youkais who were gathered around the table.

They were planning troop movements, moving chips across the surface as reports came in, clearly working on preparing to defend the place. Harry felt his pulse start to rise as he began to realize just what sort of situation he had landed in.

_Calm down, Harry. I doubt you will be fighting since you're not a part of their group. _Archer did his best to calm the boy down.

_Y-you're right, Archer... I'm not going to be in the fighting... I hope._

_I hope so too, Harry. _Archer agreed.

Harry's worry increased as he listened to an extended account of Kiritsugu's actions in the man's report to the war council. His understanding of the language had improved slightly, enough for him to get the main gist of what was being said. What Archer had heard during the earlier report was simply a warning about the impending invasion, and even the details that the man had let slip during their time in the bath was only the tip of the iceberg. Still, he was receiving quite an instruction in the matters of war.

Emiya Kiritsugu was also working with the Alchemy-using organization that Cliffe belonged to, who had hired him to find out just what was behind the disappearances of their agents in Japan. As things turned out, Makiri was behind it as well. The old man had cannibalized their Alchemical Weapons in order to provide energy for the creation of his homunculi. It explained what happened to Harry's watch, which no longer worked like it should. However, that wasn't the only problem. Makiri's research had allowed the copying of some of the weapons' abilities over into the homunculi, increasing their defensive and offensive abilities greatly; Cliffe had provided a list of the lost weapons, and each of them had a different power that the homunculi now had. While Kiritsugu had managed to destroy the manufacturing plant in his infiltration, the records suggested that a fifth of the army would be made up of these enhanced homunculi. It was not encouraging news, and the mood of those in the room reflected it.

Makiri had found out about the location of Nexus when the organization had sent an agent with a sensor-type Alchemical Weapon to discover where their vanished members had disappeared to. That agent managed to discover the location of Makiri's base and passed the information on before getting captured, which was how Kiritsugu had known where to investigate. There were only eight sensor-equipped homunculi produced, but due to their abilities allowing them to function as a communications relay between all other homunculi within thirty meters of themselves, the army received a huge boost in efficiency. It was unanimously agreed among the defenders that the priority would be to target those homunculi.

Armed with an idea of what to expect, the planning of the defense got underway. From what Harry picked up, the Yakumo clan compound had several important points to protect. Naturally the main clan hall was one of them, but there were places such as the barrier nodes that fed the overall wards, the library where important tomes and scrolls were, the armory where weapons were stored, and other areas that didn't have any logistical advantage, but were crucial strategically. Message-bearing crows, cats and foxes kept going in and out of the room with increasing frequency as the generals had their troops move into positions.

Harry focused on memorizing what they did; non-combatants were evacuated to places in the inner compounds, warding specialists reinforced existing defenses against penetrating attacks while moving to locations where they could respond to any new developments on the enemy's end as soon as possible, observation points were set up... it was honestly confusing for a boy who had no experience with battles beyond single duels. Yet Harry couldn't help but feel slightly excited despite the tension.

"_**Is there anything we can do?**_" Kakeru suddenly asked, finally unable to stay silent a few minutes after Kiritsugu left the room to see to the defenses.

A few of the youkais turned towards him. "_**What can you do?**_" A hooded one asked.

Kakeru explained his skills, and after a moment's consideration, he was given instructions to help defend one of the safe rooms where the non-combatants were. Kakeru wished Harry good luck before following the youkai tasked to show him the way, and Kaori nodded to him before following her teacher.

"_**What about you, boy? What can you-**_" The hooded youkai broke off as someone stepped up behind Harry. "_**Tsubaki-dono.**_" Several of the youkai bowed to the person, and Harry turned to look.

The first thing he noticed were the tails; nine golden-colored tails, waving slowly, fanned out behind the youkai. The woman's hair, similarly gold, was in a short bob, though the upper part was covered by a black hat that peaked at two slightly moving points. Her kimono was black silk with large flowing sleeves that hid her hands, and there was a red sash tied around her waist. Compared to Kiriyo, this fox youkai radiated power, and Harry couldn't help but take a step back in the face of it.

"_**The elder wishes to speak to this boy.**_" She spoke in a quiet voice that managed to reach everyone in the room despite its low volume. "_**Follow me.**_" The fox youkai Tsubaki said to Harry, who nodded.

_What exactly would the elder of the clan want with me? _Harry wondered as he followed Tsubaki out of the room.

_I have no idea, but be on your guard. _Archer warned.

Harry nodded. _I don't need you to tell me that._

The trip was short, and only interrupted once when his guide paused momentarily with her ears twitching, and muttered that 'they've come' to herself before continuing onwards. When they arrived at yet another similar-looking set of doors, she opened them and gestured for him to go in. Seeing no other choice, Harry did so, walking into the dimly lit room with the doors closing shut behind him.

"_**Come here, child.**_" The same voice he had heard in the meeting hall called out to him.

Reasoning that he would have been harmed long before if it had been her intention, Harry approached the speaker. As his steps took him closer to the woman, the light in the room increased in intensity, illuminating the place to his eyes.

A woman lay reclined on a long priceless-looking red couch that was on an elevated platform, her upper body propped up on an elbow that was resting on the left arm of the couch. That same arm supported her head, while her other hand idly waved a hand fan in front of her face, covering the lower half of her face and only revealing her golden eyes, which were watching Harry closely. The sheer inhumanness behind that gaze made him shudder slightly, something he and Archer both noticed the woman pick up on with amusement.

Not wanting to be caught staring, Harry examined the rest of her instead. He was slightly surprised to see that her fashion style was predominantly Western; brown shoes adorned with red ribbons dangled off the edge of the couch, barely hidden by the frilly hem of her white dress, while the red-purple top with intricate embroidery provided the only bit of Eastern-style fashion. It was rather odd clothing for someone who belonged to an old clan of Japan, especially since Harry was expecting a full formal Japanese kimono.

A soft snap made him look back at the woman's face, now fully revealed since she had closed the fan; the sound had come from that. Harry could feel Archer tensing up, but he couldn't blame the spirit. The woman was good-looking, pretty as a Veela even, but it had an unnatural quality to it, and that unnerved Harry. It answered the question as to how someone who should be extremely old looked so young.

_A youkai too... but... _He stopped at the edge of the platform, and waited there for her to say something. His eyes widened when he realized something about the woman. _I don't... sense anything from her._

Harry's training had given him a sort of sixth sense which he could use to perceive others with, those with more power more easily. However, the youkai before him read as a total blank, like she wasn't even there, despite the fact that he could see her with his eyes.

Yakumo smiled, not reassuringly. "_**So... Harry Potter.**_"

Harry swallowed. "_**Y...yes.**_"

She studied him for several seconds before speaking. "_**You're touched by fate.**_"

Harry blinked. "What? I mean... _**What?**_"

He had the strangest feeling that she was looking _into _him as she checked him over with her eyes. And that feeling was confirmed when she spoke again.

"_**A spirit connection inside you...**_" Yakumo pronounced, her eyes narrowing slightly. "_**One that goes beyond the boundaries of the world... I see. So this is what he was talking about.**_" She added the last part softly, as though to herself.

"_**How?**_" Archer and Harry both said at the same time, staring at the youkai.

It was then that Archer remembered something about golden eyes. _Harry, those are Mystic Eyes! _

Yakumo chuckled, waving her closed fan from side to side. "_**Mystic Eyes... No, not exactly.**_" (3)

Harry took a step back. "_**You can... you can hear him?**_"

"_**Yes...**_" The woman sat up. "_**I can even see him. White hair. Tanned skin. Red clothes. A barren land. Unlimited blades.**_" Yakumo's voice grew softer with each word, but Harry and Archer could hear her clearly still.

_She can even see Unlimited Blade Works... _Archer whispered in shock.

"_**More than a thousand years I've lived, yet you're an existence I've never seen before.**_" Yakumo spoke again, her voice once more at the volume it was. "_**That Zelretch... he never fails to amuse.**_"

Once again, Harry and Archer were shocked. "_**Zelretch? You know Zelretch?!**_" Harry exclaimed.

Yakumo nodded. "_**I met him. By chance, many years ago. Since then, he drops by once in a while.**_"

"_**When did you last see him?**_" Harry asked, almost desperately.

Archer's stories about the man painted him as a person one wouldn't want to meet by chance, let alone on purpose. Yet when presented with a lead to him, Harry couldn't resist wanting to have that experience. He had so many questions he wanted to ask the man, for without Zelretch's interference, he would never have met Archer or learned about Magecraft. Sometimes Harry wondered what his life would be like if he had never summoned the Heroic Spirit, and the possibility frightened him.

"_**About a year or two ago.**_" Yakumo replied, and raised a finger to silence him before he could ask another question. "_**There's no time, child. What happens next depends on you.**_"

"_**Me?**_"

The youkai gestured with her free hand, and an inky blot appeared in the air above it. Something dropped out of it, and the blot vanished, leaving Yakumo holding a palm-sized, round and flat object. It took Harry a moment to realize what it was; the thing had the same broken appearance that his watch had.

"_**An Alchemical Weapon?**_" He asked.

Yakumo nodded. "_**This was retrieved by Emiya-san, its owner no longer living. It's broken. Left alone, it will eventually recover after a year or so. But...**_"

_Oh good, so it'll fix itself. _Harry thought as he watched another inky blot appear, only this time it was Harry's broken watch that fell out, this time into the hand with the fan. Seeing it, he started patting the pocket where it was frantically, confirming its disappearance. _How did she DO that?_

_Some kind of spatial magic? _Archer was wondering about it as well.

"_**That's a secret.**_" Yakumo answered in response to their silent questions, before continuing, "_**Now listen. Makiri's research gave him more than just the ability to create homunculi. He found a way to harness some of that energy for himself, making him practically unable to be killed by normal means.**_"

Harry started to get a bad feeling. "_**Not even the Killing Curse?**_"

"_**Whatever he did, it created a barrier that almost nothing can penetrate.**_"

Archer saw where things were going at once. _Except an Alchemical Weapon. _He surmised.

"_**That's right.**_" Yakumo brought both objects in her hands together.

The moment they came into contact, blue lightning manifested in an aura around them, the strong smell of ozone filling the room. Yakumo retracted her hands, looking calmly on as the two objects floated where they were. Eyes squinted against the bright light, Harry watched in shocked fascination as each silhouette spawned tendrils that dug into the other, drawing together until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. A sudden flash made him shut his eyes tightly, and when he opened them again, Harry had spots in his vision.

"_**It's done.**_" He heard Yakumo say with some satisfaction.

When his vision finally cleared, Harry looked up to see her holding out his watch, slightly different in appearance, but no longer looking broken. Almost reflexively, he reached out for it, but Yakumo pulled it out of his reach.

"_**Makiri is like a slippery snake. He has hatched many plots before, and each time he was thwarted, only to return. This attack is one born of desperation, because he believes what he desires is finally within his reach.**_" Yakumo stated, with Archer translating for Harry. "_**But he will soon realize its futility, and retreat again. When that happens, he won't be found until he has accumulated more power than before, possibly enough to be a threat.**_"

Harry blinked. _What exactly does she want? Archer?_

The spirit was silent, having understood what Yakumo was asking.

The youkai twirled the watch between her fingers. "_**As I said, what happens next... depends on you.**_"

She tossed the watch, and Harry fumbled slightly while catching it. He almost missed her next words.

"_**Would you kindly kill Makiri?**_" (4)

The watch slipped through his frozen fingers and clattered on the floor.

* * *

A homunculi shrieked as it came at him, its claws extended towards his throat. With barely a thought, Harry parried the attack with the weapon he was carrying and stabbed it straight into the chest of the creature. The effect was immediate; the homunculi froze momentarily, then suddenly disintegrated into ash, which faded into nothing even as it fell to the ground.

_Unbelievable... _Archer muttered.

_Yeah... _Harry agreed.

The subject of their attention was the spear in Harry's hands. Six feet long and silver in color, it possessed a rather large spearhead, nearly the size of Harry's torso. Compared to the long plain handle, there was a diamond-shaped red gem embedded in the center of the spearhead, with three grooves stretching from it to cover the rest of the head; two extending perpendicularly from the sides closest to the sharp tip and the other running between the point where the shaft connected to the point of the gem closest to it.

The gem was currently glowing red as red sparks was drawn into its interior; the remnants of the energy that powered the homunculi being drained into the Alchemical Weapon. When the last of it was sucked beneath the surface, the gem turned dark. Harry finally sighed and lowered the weapon.

"_**That's the last of them! Everyone okay?!**_" One of the youkai called out, and received several positive replies.

Harry flinched when a blocky-looking monk who looked like he could give Hagrid a run for his money clapped him on the back. "_**You helped us there, kid. Thanks.**_"

He had no idea what to say in reply, so he just nodded. Placing his left arm parallel to the spear's shaft, Harry watched the weapon shrink and mold itself back into the watch it was disguised as.

Compared to the original version, it now had a bow design outlining the right side of the face, facing in the same direction it would when expanded, plus a tiny red gem in the center of a diamond at the twelve o'clock point. Harry had inadvertently found out about the new form when his scrabbling with it caused him to rotate the face so that the diamond was in the direction of his hand, which proved to be the trigger for calling out the spear. A quick experiment indicated that the bow could still be called out as usual, although its design was slightly bulkier than before.

But he didn't have the luxury of studying the changes now. _There's still time for me to decide. _Harry thought, checking the time on his watch.

Twenty minutes ago, he had somebody ask him to kill someone else for her, and naturally Harry froze up. Compared to killing the homunculi, actually having to assassinate someone was very much different. He had stood there for a few minutes just staring at Yakumo trying to get his mind to cope with the fact that she had asked him to kill Makiri for her. Plus, Archer didn't say a thing, clearly leaving him to decide things on his own.

And to top it all off, Makiri's troops attacked and Yakumo just teleported him to one of the defense points to help out before Harry could think about it properly, leaving him with the warning to come to a decision in an hour, which was the time when Makiri was predicted to that, he had no time to think, since the homunculi came in hard and fast, forcing him to focus entirely on fighting. When his watch manifested as a spear instead of a bow, Harry had no choice but to become a frontline fighter. Luckily for him, the former wielder was fairly skilled, and Archer's Tracing ability enabled him to utilize some of that expertise.

However, Archer refused to offer any advice to Harry regarding the clan elder's request. It was obvious to Harry that something in the spirit's history made the issue a touchy one for him, and decided not to press Archer any further. Still, that meant he had to make the decision alone. Killing Makiri was something different from killing the homunculi, if you defined the homunculi as 'alive', and Harry wasn't sure if he could do something like that.

"_**The southeast section needs help!**_" Someone called out from somewhere down the corridor. "_**The enemies are attacking in force there!**_"

"_**Shit! That's where the children are! We've got to help!**_"

"_**We can't spare any here! We only managed because... of...**_"

Harry blinked and looked around, only just realizing that the youkais around him had fallen silent and were staring at him. "_**What?**_" He asked.

"_**Please, could you help us? Our comrades are in danger!**_"

"_**Please!**_" "_**Help us!**_" "_**Go save them!**_" The request was taken up by others, and Harry soon found himself surrounded on all sides by pleas to help.

He agreed before he knew what he was doing, and soon found himself running after a messenger fox to the location. As Harry approached the area, he passed by the sight of several corpses from both sides lying around the place, and felt sickened by it.

_Harry. _Archer called out to him.

_What? I'm trying to save people here! _Harry thought back, a bit angrily as he followed the fox.

_I know. I just want to say... when you make your choice, don't forget that. That you're saving lives by doing this._

Harry was about to reply, but his ears picked up the sound of fighting and screaming, and he increased his pace further with Reinforcement, outstripping the fox easily. Without saying anything, he felt Archer synchronize with him, the spirit lending his aid to enhance Harry's physical performance. Smiling briefly, Harry grabbed his watch and twisted it to the right, and the spear assembled itself in his left hand.

He raced past the first battling pair without missing a step, swinging his spear horizontally to take off the homunculus's head as he passed by. Jumping off a fallen body, Harry whirled the spear over his head and brought it down to cleave another into half from behind. As the borrowed instincts took over, the Alchemical Weapon became a whirlwind of death to the homunculi, lashing out with nearly blinding speed to slaughter every target within range. Unlike his first time with it, it now felt like the spear was truly his, and his movements seemed to flow together better than it normally did

"_**Amazing...**_" He dimly heard someone say as he stepped through.

"_**With this guy, we can win!**_"

"_**Fight! Don't give up!**_"

"_**Kyaah!**_"

The last one didn't sound like the others, and it sounded familiar; Harry glanced in its direction reflexively. He instantly spotted Kiriyo, who looked like she had fallen down. There was a red-colored homunculus looming over her body, about to impale it with the sword it had for arms.

A technique appeared in his mind and his body acted immediately; hefting the spear up in his left hand while cupping the butt end with his right, Harry drove his right arm forward in an explosive motion, launching the weapon like a missile towards the homunculus. It noticed a moment too late, and was impaled itself. Harry darted over and retrieved the spear before any of the other homunculi could take advantage of his disarmed state, standing protectively in front of Kiriyo.

"_**You okay?**_" He shouted to be heard over the din of the battle around them.

"_**...ye-yeah!**_ _**You saved me!**_" Kiriyo scrambled to her feet.

"_**What's the situation?**_" Harry asked, parrying a familiar-looking energy arrow from a silver homunculus. _That's my bow!_

"_**Not good. They're countering everything we do like they know our every move! Fox Fire!**_" A blue fireball flew over Harry's shoulder, exploding in the face of that attacker.

"_**Like they know...?**_" Harry repeated.

_A sensor-type. There's probably one of them nearby. _Archer concluded even as Kiriyo released another burst of flames to fend off three more homunculi.

A lull in the fighting around him gave Harry the chance to study the battlefield; a clawed one ducked an attack from behind that it should not have been able to see coming, several switching opponents so smoothly and with no trouble against their new enemies it was uncanny, plus a large majority breaking off to come straight at him, apparently recognizing the threat he posed.

"_**Oh no.**_" Kiriyo squeaked, also realizing the same thing.

_Archer, I think we need to do that. _Harry thought calmly.

_I think so too. _The spirit agreed.

"_Trace... ON!_" Harry spun the spear, blocking another energy arrow; Kiriyo took it out, firing several shots in order to land a hit.

"_**If you're going to do something, do it fast!**_"

Harry slammed the butt of the spear into the ground in front of him, feeling prana surge through the circuits in his body. "_Complete Trace... Standby!_"

His vision memorized the location of every single homunculi within its range, while Archer took care of the Tracing, producing copies out of the air around them, each one angled towards its intended target.

Harry smirked as he saw the homunculi pause, surprised by what he did. "_Targeted Trace... Fire!_" He barked.

A large cloud of steel burst forward, and ripped into the homunculi before they could even move. Harry hissed, feeling the pain of strained circuits; it wasn't really as bad as the previous times he overused them, but the sensation was distracting enough.

"_**Wow...**_" Kiriyo breathed, before she suddenly gasped. "_**That one's trying to escape!**_"

She slipped around Harry and charged forward on all fours, her tail trailing out behind her. Harry spotted the one she was aiming for; golden-white in color, the homunculus had flower-shaped protrusions on its shoulders, with a black band covering the place where the eyes should be. His instincts instantly told him that this was the sensor they were looking for.

"_**You won't get away!**_" The fox youkai snarled, conjuring several heavy chains which wrapped around her target and held it still. "_**Now stay still and let me-**_"

"_**Look out!**_" Having noticed the sudden increasing glow at the center of the flowers, which had turned to face Kiriyo, Harry automatically recognized the danger and shoved the girl aside.

The beams that lanced out grazed the top of Harry's outstretched arm, powerful heat searing it at two points. If Harry hadn't pushed Kiriyo out of the way, the beams would have gone through both sides of her chest.

Before the homunculus could fire again, Harry's spear pierced it through the neck, and its energy was absorbed into the weapon, causing its body to disintegrate like the rest.

With the destruction of the sensor homunculus, the tide of the battle turned almost immediately, and it wasn't long before all the homunculis were destroyed. Feeling exhausted, Harry slumped down against a wall, not caring that there were blood spatters on it, nor answering Archer when he congratulated the boy on doing a good job. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kiriyo doing the same.

"_**Whew~ I'm soooo tired...**_" She sighed.

Harry didn't reply, but just focused on recovering from all the exertion.

"_**Hey... just now... you saved me again, right?**_" Kiriyo paused for a moment, then put one arm around his shoulders. "_**Really, thank you.**_"

"_**You're welcome.**_" Harry muttered back, his mind finally starting to regain some coherence.

"_**Seriously, if you hadn't come, we'd be goners, and then so would the young youkais we were protecting...**_" Kiriyo was chattering away, an effect of her own nerves.

Harry blinked on hearing those words.

"_**And if you hadn't destroyed the thing... it would have gotten away, and we'd have lost...**_" She chuckled humorlessly. "_**Geez, listen to me, talking so depressingly...**_" Kiriyo's hold on Harry tightens, pulling his face against a soft cushion. "_**Really, really, thanks...**_" She murmured, her voice thick.

They stayed like that for several minutes, even as other youkai passed by, some thanking Harry for coming to their aid. From what Harry overheard of the reports, the homunculi had retreated for the time being, but there was no doubt that they would soon attack again. Looking around, he realized that the youkai defenders had suffered quite a few losses.

_If they attack again... _Harry thought worriedly as someone else approached them. He didn't notice the silence that had fallen over the place.

"_**Mm?**_" Kiriyo looked up, and immediately bolted upright, knocking Harry to the ground. "_**E-E-Elder!**_" She stammered.

Harry pushed himself up and looked. Yakumo herself was standing over him, fan covering her lower face. Checking his watch, he realized that there was still another fifteen minutes to the indicated time.

"_**It's nearly time. Have you decided?**_"

Grimacing, Harry got to his feet and met her eyes squarely. "_**Yeah, I've made my decision.**_"

One eyebrow lifts expectantly. "_**And?**_"

"_**I'll do it. I'll kill Makiri.**_" Harry said determinedly.

* * *

(1) A lamia is a mythological Greek monster, supposedly having a serpent's tail on the upper body of a woman, and is said to eat children.

(2) A formal manner of sitting in Japan, it involves folding your legs under your thighs, with your butt resting on your heels, ankles facing outwards to make your feet form a V-shape. For beginners, your legs are likely to go numb after a while of this.

(3) This is just a reminder that while Mystic Eyes exist in this Harry Potter universe, not everything can be attributed to them. It has its own brand of magic, remember that.

(4) My way of referencing Bioshock, especially since Bioshock Infinite came out shortly after I started writing this chapter. However, I can't really play it as the graphics give me a horrible dizzying headache. Interesting story, though.

Well, that's another chapter done. Firstly, I would like to say that I will be taking time off writing fanfics as I have exams approaching and I need to study for them. Now on to this chapter itself, it took a while to come into shape, and I think I might have made the flow a little messy going from a prisoner situation to a war situation, but meh, that's what my muse directed me to do, and that's what I did. Still, I'd like to get some reviews, especially near the last part...

Personally, I've been getting distracted by another fanfic idea, and this time it's a Naruto one. However, as stated earlier, exams are stopping me from writing as I want, so no Naruto fanfic anytime soon. It's just distracting though... and sapping interest from continuing with this.

So yeah, some of you will have realized by now that I'm borrowing from Busou Renkin, but all I've taken is the idea of Alchemical Weapons. There's no Homunculi vs Alchemist thing, and what's happening is just a coincidental interaction between a magical organization who arms their agents with Alchemical Weapons, and a Dark Wizard who harnessed the power of Alchemy in his work. And of course, the youkai elder is just a reference to Yakumo Yukari of Touhou Project. Seriously, there should be more fanfics of HP crossover with Touhou... Somebody write one, please!

I was originally thinking of putting a cliffhanger at the end to make you guys guess as to whether Harry will go through with killing Makiri or not, but I suppose the events leading up to it would make it too obvious, so I chose to just have Harry say that he's going to do it. _**DUN DUN DUUNNNNN...**_

I think for once I didn't forget anything I wished to say here, so that's all for now, and please wait for the next chapter to arrive sometime in mid May!


	29. Fifth Enchantment

Harry could hear the muted sound of explosions happening around the estate, although none of them sounded close by to his current location. Across the Yakumo estate, the youkai defenders were putting up a fierce defense against their attackers. Every now and then, the sound of his footfalls would pause when he had to leap over an underlying corpse along his path. (The fox he was following moved silently) Most of them were homunculi remains, but there was the occasional youkai body in a pool of red congealing blood, and the sight of them always made Harry grimace.

_Careful. _Archer warned as they turned a corner.

The blade that scythed towards Harry went over his head as he dropped his upper body down. As with most of the homunculi he faced before, the attack was awfully simple, and thus easy to counter. Without missing a step, Harry swung his spear horizontally, cleaving through its body as he went past. As with all the others, the homunculus disintegrated, its energy drained into the spear's gem.

Archer was quietly considering the change that had come over his host. Ever since Harry made his decision, he had hardly spoken at all. Even when he went to get his injuries treated together with Kiriyo, the most Harry had spoken was to inform the physician of where his injuries were, and his responses to the fox youkai's questions were mainly grunts. Then reports came in about the next place that was being attacked, and Harry had left immediately to help. So far he had encountered another group led by the sensor-type, and with the help of the defenders in that area, eliminated them quickly.

It wasn't immediately evident, but Archer noticed that as time passed, the slight hesitation that had appeared in Harry's movements after he made his decision gradually vanished, reflecting the boy's own strengthening determination to see things through. It was no coincidence that the largest differences could be witnessed after they passed a fallen defender, and Archer could feel his own desire to end this conflict as well.

Up ahead, through an open door, a fierce battle was taking place. Harry slashed down one of the homunculi outside the door from behind, and quickly dodged backwards when the remainder turned around to confront him, responding faster than the lone ones he had fought just before.

_There's another one of those sensor types here! _He realized right away. _Archer, can you-_

_On it._

The fighting this time was tougher; due to their role as long-range support, there were quite a few specialized homunculi mixed in with this crowd, and it made it a lot harder for Harry to even get within striking range. In addition to facing his own energy arrows, there were two other ranged-type homunculi, attacking him with boomerangs and chakrams. Luckily for him, their attacks were simple enough to predict, and Archer's assistance enabled him to read the paths they would take.

"_Trace On, Target, Fire!_" Harry snapped out, shooting one of the normal blades in Archer's stock at the boomerang-user, while simultaneously striking down two chakrams aimed at his body with his spear.

The sword missile's flight was interrupted when a grunt homunculi leapt in front of it, but the force behind the projectile was enough to punch a gaping hole through its torso. However, it lessened the momentum enough that only the tip of the blade managed to pierce its true target, which was insufficient to stop its functions.

"Tch!" Harry gritted his teeth, leaning out of the way of a Banisher shot from the bow-wielding homunculus. "Troublesome tactics..."

The wall to his right exploded outwards, and Harry instinctively rolled with the force, coming back up onto his feet to aim his weapon at the cause. A giant one-eyed youkai stared at him for a moment, before reaching out with a trunk-like arm to swat the lamia homunculus that was charging from his right.

_You aren't fighting alone. _Archer reminded him. _And you're still fighting. _The spirit added as more of the homunculi within the room ahead came out to reinforce their compatriots.

_I know! Have you located it yet? _Harry demanded, using his Eye to surprise the majority of the attackers with sharp wooden stakes from below.

_It's not anywhere within sight, but the general location is somewhere ahead!_

"Got it!" Harry answered out loud, settling into a low stance. "_**Everyone, get out of the way!**_" He shouted.

Twisting the handle of the spear slightly, Harry began channeling prana into the weapon. Instantly, the gem began glowing a brilliant red, and the head split apart. The disconnected portions remained floating, linked to the central gem by solid ruby light, forming a giant spearhead nearly three times the size of the initial form. As Harry poured more power into the spear, the two lower portions began twisting slightly towards the shaft, making the shape more streamlined and the point more pronounced.

This was one of the abilities Archer had divined regarding the spear. With the application of his prana, Harry could utilize part of the stored energy within the gem to create a non-physical deconstruction field around the spearhead, similar to a field of antimatter.

All the youkais ahead heard his warning and got out of in front of him, while forcing their opponents into his path. "_**Here goes!**_" Harry shouted, and charged forward.

As if in response to his intention, a red energy burst from the haft of his spear, sending him rocketing forward even faster. In a flash, several homunculi exploded into dust, and Harry plunged straight into the room.

It was instantly obvious that the defenders were having a hard time. They were hemmed against the far side, surrounded by four dangerous-looking homunculi. Without even a moment's hesitation, Harry targeted one of them and managed to completely obliterate it with a single stab of his giant blade of light. He turned to aim for the others, but they instantly retreated out of his range, with backup from the ranged ones preventing him from following through.

Grimacing, Harry readjusted his grip on the spear, and let it revert back into its original state. With allies nearby, it wouldn't be wise to swing around such a large weapon. Especially when they moved to join up with him on either side.

"_**Thanks for the help, kid.**_" A hulking blue-skinned youkai grunted, hefting a wicked-looking metal club with spikes along its length. "_**Try to mess with us, huh? We'll show them what we think of that!**_"

As the defenders launched their counterattack, Harry hung back slightly so he could pay some attention to Archer's voice in his head.

_It's not anywhere in this room, even though it should be. _The spirit reported, having used Harry's eyes to take in the surroundings in the instant they had entered the place.

_Is it invisible? No, of course it can't... it's designed for communications, which means it must be hiding. _Harry concluded, parrying a slash aimed at his head and cutting the attacker in half.

"_**You're looking for something.**_" A whispery voice spoke from nearby, nearly causing him to attack whoever it was in reflex.

The youkai that had spoken looked similar to a ghost, with long flowing robes that hid any signs of gender and a grey veil that obscured its face. A wrinkled hand gripped an ornate katana that was its weapon against the invaders, though it was currently lowered as it apparently stared down at Harry.

Harry hesitated for only a moment before answering. "_**One of them is controlling the rest, but I can't see where it is.**_"

The veil shifted slightly as the youkai blocked an attack, leaving another of its comrades to take the offender down. "_**Ah. Then that must be the one who has been hiding above all this while.**_"

The sudden revelation made Harry blink. "_**Above?**_" He repeated dumbly.

_It's learned to hide itself. _Archer realized. _It looks like each one will adapt to our attack patterns._

"_**It hasn't attacked us at all, so I had been ignoring it...**_" The youkai trailed off, seemingly staring at the place where the sensor homunculus apparently was.

_No time to hesitate! _Harry decided. "_**Right there, is it? Leave it to me!**_"

With a flick of his wrist, he transformed the spear back into its watch form, then brought out the bow. As though sensing its impending doom, all the homunculi in the room suddenly attacked with increased vigor, their target obvious. However, the defenders weren't easily broken, and retaliated just as strongly.

"_**It's moving. We shall cover you.**_"

"_**Thanks!**_" Harry focused on tracking the homunculus after replying.

The sounds of conflict around him vanished as he tuned them out, concentrating his vision on the ceiling boards. While he didn't have the sensory ability the veiled youkai had, it was easy enough to track the sensor homunculus's movement from the slight shaking of the boards as its weight moved over on top of them.

_About two meters long, assuming it's the same shape as the other one... the center of the body is... there. _"_Trace, On._"

A dull grey sword, straight and heavy, appeared in his hand, waiting to be drawn back. Drawing the bow, Harry took aim, and reconfigured the blade into a wicked-looking arrow of steel. The tip slowly moved in tandem with its target.

_It's speeding up, and moving erratically. I guess it can tell through the others that I'm about to shoot it. _Harry thought, slowly feeling himself locking onto it, that when he released the shot, he would hit it with absolute certainty.

_Now. _Archer spoke the word at the same time Harry did.

A fairly large hole appeared in the ceiling as the arrow tore straight through, and there was a screech in the darkness. All the homunculi in the room paused slightly, and several of them fell when their opponents took advantage of that opening.

_You got it. _Archer confirmed. _But there are still the others._

_Then let's take care of those. _Harry began Tracing more swords to fire from his bow.

Without the sensor-type to coordinate them, the remaining homunculi fell beneath the youkais attacks in short order. As for Harry, he decided to take a short break to recover some of his stamina before moving on, with Archer's encouragement. Being young still, he didn't have the capability to keep going so easily, so Harry had no choice but to listen to further reports from the other locations under attack.

_How's your arm? _Archer asked.

Harry flexed the fingers on the hand he used to push Kiriyo out of the way. _The cream they used works really well. There's only a slight ache that doesn't affect me any way whatsoever. _

_Still, don't overdo it. You're on the battlefield here. _

Harry's mood darkened slightly as his fingers curled into a fist. _I know. _

So far, Makiri had been hanging back and sending out troops to test the defenders, and not showing up personally. However, Yakumo was extremely confident that he would eventually do so, and told Harry to wait until then. But the waiting was starting to wear on Harry's nerves, even with all the fighting he was engaging in.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching made him look up. He stared dully at Kiritsugu, who stopped a short distance away in front of him. Like Harry, he bore a few signs of having been in battle; his coat was ripped and scorched in several areas, though not enough to reach the skin, while there were a few scratches and bandages on his face. His left hand carried a large-sized gun with a weary air, and even from where he was, Harry could smell the strong stench of gunpowder. Kiritsugu also had a cigarette in his mouth, an odd thing to be having while everyone else was fighting, but it apparently helped the man to relax.

"_**So you were here.**_" Kiritsugu took the cigarette out to say.

Harry nodded. "_**What's happened?**_"

"_**Makiri will be coming within the next hour. Get some rest until then. No more running around like you've been doing.**_"

Harry's response was to glare. "_**Why?**_" Why let them die when I could go help, that was what he was asking, but somehow only the first word made it past his lips.

"_**Because that's the plan.**_"

Harry waited, and when Kiritsugu didn't say anything else, demanded, "_**What's this plan then?**_"

Kiritsugu took a slow drag on his cigarette, before exhaling the smoke out off to the side. "_**The plan has two objectives. First, the destruction of sensor-type homunculi. Second, drawing Makiri into the conflict by pretending that his presence will be required to tip the scales.**_"

_Guessed as much. _Archer thought. _The defenders are presenting a weak image, displaying just enough resistance to make the homunculi pay for the attacks._

Harry blinked, trying to get his mind to understand the facts. He realized that maybe he was more tired than he initially thought.

_Makiri is working on a time limit, the spell that's preventing reinforcements from coming, remember? _Archer reminded.

Harry closed his eyes. _Forgot about that... I see now. So everything's a trap to lure out the big one..._

He heard another long exhalation. "_**Understood yet?**_" Kiritsugu asked.

"_**Yeah.**_" Harry opened his eyes to look up at the man. _He looks just as tired as I feel... _"_**Where will he be when he comes?**_"

"_**You'll be informed later.**_" With a nod, Kiritsugu walked away.

Harry did his best to call up the memory of the map he had seen during the war planning. After all the running and fighting he did in the maze of corridors and rooms, he honestly had no idea where he was exactly, but his purpose for doing so wasn't to find his own location.

_How would you go about the plan, Archer? _He asked, focusing on the image in his head.

The spirit took a moment to consider before giving his answer. _The main objective in conquering this place would be the barrier nodes. I would..._

The discussion of battlefield strategy and tactics went on for a while, before Harry was suddenly jarred out of his mind by a light kick to his leg.

"_**I can't believe you can actually fall asleep here while everyone else is fighting!**_" Kaori scolded him.

From over her shoulder, Kakeru nodded. "_**Yo.**_"

Harry looked the two of them over. Like Kiritsugu, both showed signs of having been in battle, and there were some bloodstains on their clothes to go with the tears and holes.

Kakeru caught where he was looking. "_**It's not our blood.**_" He explained.

"_**As if I'd get hurt by weaklings like that.**_" Kaori sniffed, then noticed the bandage on Harry's arm. "_**Oh? You actually got a wound from them?**_" Her tone was slightly mocking.

The next moment, she stumbled forward slightly with a small yelp, one hand going to her back.

"_**Stop that.**_" Kakeru chided, holding up one finger; he had poked her somewhere on her back, and it was clearly sensitive. "_**Now's not the time for that.**_"

Grumbling, Kaori settled herself down near Harry, and Kakeru did the same. One of the smaller youkai (barely up to Harry's knee) came over with a tray of food; some roast meat on skewers and a pot of tea with cups for them. In between bites, the pair filled Harry in about what happened since the group split up earlier.

They were defending one of the barrier nodes, but that was actually one of the decoy ones. The Yakumo clan already had contingencies in place in case of an invasion, and one of them being used for the plan was to have other barrier nodes to take up the slack in case some were taken. From what Harry knew about warding and putting up bounded fields, this wasn't something easily accomplished. Barriers were strong because they had fixed locations for the enchantments to support them, to shift those foundations around went against all conventional knowledge.

Kakeru and Kaori's purpose at that place was to target the sensor homunculus that was predicted to show up, because of the perceived importance of that location. And just as predicted, a sizable force had appeared, with the ensuing battle seeing the defenders take a heavy beating. However, the moment the sensor-type had revealed itself, Kaori and Kakeru worked together to take it down hard and fast, and retreated soon afterwards.

"_**I heard there were eight of them in total, so far that makes three of them confirmed to be down.**_" Harry said.

"_**Four total, I heard that one of the other decoy nodes managed to get another.**_" Kakeru replied.

"_**Five.**_" The three of them turned to look at who had spoken.

Harry recognized the fox youkai that had conveyed him to his first meeting with Yakumo, Tsubaki. He immediately noticed that unlike them, her clothes were still in pristine condition, which meant that she hadn't been fighting. For a moment, Harry wondered why, especially since she was so much stronger than several of the other youkais combined.

_She's probably the backup in case the whole thing fails. _Archer explained in response to Harry's thoughts.

_I see. _

"_**One of our higher ranking officers managed to slay another sensor in an ambush. Only three are left.**_" Tsubaki informed them. "_**According to the elder, Makiri will soon make his move, using all his remaining troops in one concentrated assault.**_"

"_**You'll be taking the field then, I assume?**_" Kakeru asked.

She nodded. "_**Yes.**_"

As Harry continued to recover, messengers kept coming in from the various areas to report the retreat of homunculi in those places, with the addition that they were amassing near the edge of the barrier that led to the main compound. Every single thing was occurring just as planned, according to what Harry overheard.

_But whose plan? Yakumo's? If so, she's one heck of a strategist. _Harry thought furiously.

_She's old. Really old. _Archer reminded him._ Centuries of experience, in Japan._ He didn't need to say anything further.

_Yeah... _

As Harry's thoughts turned to other things, he wondered whether there was a relation between one's age and the tendency to manipulate others. After all, he had encountered one such example before, in Britain. A certain color sense-lacking old man with twinkling eyes.

* * *

**BOOM**

For a moment, everything shook. A few teacups spilled over, and some of the lamps swayed dangerously.

"_**What was that?**_" "_**There's still fighting?**_" "_**I thought they retreated!**_"

Muttering broke out among all those in the room. However, some among them were quiet, for they knew what the sound represented. Others gripped their weapons, and slowly got to their feet.

_It begins. _Harry thought, stretching his muscles.

One of the doors slammed open. "_**Everyone! Get ready! They're coming again!**_"

Harry couldn't see how the person who had spoken looked like over the crowd, but the news instantly galvanized them into action. Harry was about to join them when a heavy grip landed on his left shoulder.

It was Kiritsugu, and he looked even more beat up compared to how he was earlier. "_**You're needed elsewhere. The two of you too.**_" He directed the last part at Kakeru and his student.

Harry glanced at them. They looked just as mystified as he was about what change in plan had happened. Still, they followed after the mercenary against the flow of the crowd. Once they had largely escaped the throng, Kiritsugu began filling them in on what was happening.

"_**Makiri did something unexpected.**_" Kiritsugu spoke as he led them down yet another corridor after a fox. "_**Somehow, using the remaining sensors he has, Makiri managed to hijack part of the barriers using the decoy nodes he captured. The troublesome part.**_"

Archer inhaled sharply, and Harry could feel the spirit's mood become tense.

"_**What?**_" Kaori asked."_**What does that accomplish?**_"

The man glanced at her. "_**According to the elder, he's using it to further upgrade his defenses.**_"

"_**Moving anchor points is pretty amazing, but to hijack a barrier using obsolete ones...**_" Kakeru mused. "_**This enemy is dangerous.**_"

"_**Quite.**_" Kiritsugu agreed. "_**We don't know what will happen if it's fully upgraded, but it would be best if it doesn't occur.**_" He gave Harry a glance, letting the boy know that he knew about the plan, and that Harry was the only one capable of doing it.

"_**Then what are we waiting for?!**_" Kaori burst out. "_**Why are we wasting time here if that's what we've got to do?**_"

"_**Because of the protections. Makiri has invoked the Three Realms Defense.**_" (1)

Kakeru's walking paused momentarily. "_**That's not good... how far away are the three locations from each other?**_"

"_**A fair distance.**_"

"_**What's that Three Realms Defense thing?**_" Harry asked before Kaori could.

"_**It's a complicated barrier protection that requires all three anchor points to be destroyed at the same time in order to bring it down. Destroying one by itself results in the energy flowing to the remaining anchors, eventually bouncing back to cause the reformation of that point.**_" Kakeru explained to them. "_**And the reformation is usually deadly to those in the nearby vicinity.**_"

"_**Wait, why do we have to do this?**_" His student demanded. "_**Aren't there other youkais that can help us?**_"

Kiritsugu sighed. "_**The Yakumo clan is big... but their teamwork isn't all that great.**_"

"_**So what's the plan here?**_" Harry asked the older man, his mind already trying to think of how he was going to take out his target. "_**What sort of defenses, how do we hit all three at the same time?**_"

"_**There's certain to be several homunculi defending each sensor, since they won't be able to function like they normally would in their current role. Expect heavy resistance,**_" warned Kiritsugu seriously, "_**There will be at least twenty homunculi waiting, and the likelihood of at least five special types being present as well is very high.**_"

"_**It will be tough, but I think the two of us should be able to do it.**_" Kakeru decided. "_**What about you, Emiya-san?**_"

Harry had a feeling he knew the moment Kiritsugu went up a flight of stairs and to a room with a large case placed near the window. Sure enough, his Reinforced vision could pick out the sensor-type standing ramrod straight nearly three hundred meters away, through a straight line that went through a few broken walls and between several buildings. At the same time, the man opened up the case to reveal the parts for a sniper rifle.

Kaori pointed a shocked finger at the firearm. "_**Uwah, that's a... sni-sniper! Am I right?**_"

"_**Sniper rifle.**_" Harry corrected. "_**He's got a clear shot from here.**_"

"_**Ah, your archery skills.**_" Kakeru understood right away. "_**So that one's your target. What about ours?**_"

Two crows landed on the railing of the window. "_**We shall show you.**_" One of them spoke with a human voice.

"_**One of them is in a courtyard a hundred meters to the east.**_" Its partner continued. "_**The other is in a storeroom eighty meters to the southwest.**_"

Harry and Kakeru exchanged glances and quickly made their decisions. "_**I'll take the courtyard.**_" Harry said.

_It being in the open makes it perfect for a long-range attack. _Archer agreed.

"_**We'll deal with the one in the storeroom.**_"

"_**Take these with you.**_" Kiritsugu handed them a paper tag each. "_**This will let us stay in contact. Test it right now.**_"

Harry took his and stared at it dumbly for a moment, before copying Kakeru and applying it on the side of his neck. _Actually, putting something you've no experience with on your neck isn't really a smart thing to do... _He realized slightly too late.

A snort came from Archer. _It isn't, but it looks like this one's okay. _

Kiritsugu already had his on, and he placed a hand over it. "_**Can you hear me?**_" His voice sounded like he had spoken twice in the same instance, one from Harry's ears, the other from the seal.

"_**Loud and clear.**_" Kakeru confirmed, and Harry did as well.

A few more muted explosions occurred in the distance, and everybody's expressions grew grimmer. The sound of them was a reminder that lives were hinging on the speed of their actions, and from what Harry could make out of Kiritsugu's stony one, the man was feeling the same way he did.

_Wanting to save lives... it's not a bad ideal. _Harry mused.

_Just don't get trapped by it. _Archer muttered darkly.

_...sorry, I forgot about your situation. _Harry answered sheepishly.

_Never mind that, it's time to move. _Archer said sharply.

Since Harry's plan was to snipe as well, the timing of the synchronized attacks fell to Kakeru's team. With that in mind, the group quickly split up once more to head for their respective targets. While Kiritsugu remained in the room to prepare magical enhancements for his shot, Kakeru and Kaori leapt down to follow their crow guide, and Harry had his ride on the shoulder giving him directions for an even higher location.

"_**Left, and up the stairs.**_" The crow's voice was rather loud, and right in his ear, making Harry wince. "_**Go through the doors on the right, then out the opposite side. Now, go up all the way to the top. You'll get a perfect view from there.**_"

"_**Enemies?**_" Harry asked quietly.

"_**Hopefully none...**_"

_Not very reassuring... _Both Harry and Archer had the same thought.

Tracing the two swords, Harry advanced slowly, taking care to apply his weight properly so as to avoid setting off any creaky steps. It took several minutes, but he eventually managed to make his way to the top without any incident.

The place was set up like an observation deck; an undecorated area placed three storeys above the rest of the clan compound with only a simple railing around the place. One could see out over the whole place from there, but at the same time, anybody there could be easily spotted from the ground. The fighting on the ground drew most of the attention, but there was always the possibility.

The crow left Harry's shoulder to land on the railing to Harry's left. "_**This side.**_"

Harry stepped closer. It took him a second to spot the sensor homunculus; it stood upright like some kind of radio tower, similar to the one Kiritsugu was targeting. What was more worrying was the group of homunculi surrounding it, Harry could pick out several special types, including four that bore shield-like implements. At the moment, those four were patrolling in a circle around the sensor, clearly there to provide defense.

He placed a hand over the seal. "_**Harry here. My target has defensive homunculi surrounding it.**_"

Kiritsugu's voice came back in reply. "_**Can you do it?**_"

"_**Yes. They are...**_" Harry paused as he realized he didn't know how to phrase it in Japanese. _Archer, some help?_

With a chuckle, the spirit obliged. "_**They are not an issue as long as they remain a distance from the target. Which means, as long as I remain unnoticed, I'll be fine.**_"

"_**Good. What about the other group?**_"

"_**Their size prevents too many of them from being present, but it'll be a bit difficult.**_" Kakeru spoke softly, clearly trying to stay under stealth. "_**Will contact once all of the defenders are taken out.**_"

"_**Roger. We'll be waiting for your signal.**_"

Harry assembled his bow and Traced a sword, staying low to avoid being noticed prematurely. _Man, this place really is huge. The land size is definitely more than Hogwarts's, even if it isn't as tall._

Reforming the sword into an arrow form, Harry slowly drew the bowstring back, taking aim at the sensor homunculus. Like always, he could feel his chances of missing the shot vanishing the more he concentrated on it.

"_**I'm ready.**_" Kakeru's voice spoke from the seal.

"_**I'm ready too.**_" Harry replied, brushing the seal with the back of the hand that was drawing the bow to activate it.

"_**Then, ten seconds. Ten.**_" Kiritsugu announced.

An explosion made him turn around slightly to look, and his eyes widened. "What the-?"

There was some gigantic creature tearing up the area in front of the gate, wrecking devastation with several long limbs while things exploded on a white barrier around it. The dust and smoke it was kicking up made it hard for Harry to get a clear view of what it looked like exactly, but somehow he had a feeling he knew who exactly it was.

Turning back to look at the sensor, Harry suddenly jerked back when the upside-down head of a homunculus poked down from the roof above. It screeched angrily at him, and Harry automatically responded by firing his arrow straight through the roof where its body was. The force of it knocked the crow off its perch, and the remains of the homunculus slipped down and fell from the roof.

"_**Nine.**_"

_Damn it! _Harry quickly turned his eyes towards the sensor. _They noticed!_

The shield-types were suddenly shifting their positions, moving to place themselves between the sensor and his position. Even as he watched, he could see the glow of barriers activating.

_Archer, do you have anything that can get through something like that? _Harry asked.

_Let's see... _"_Trace, On!_"

Harry fired off three shots in quick succession with his right hand blurring as it drew and released, using normal swords for the first two, then rounding off with an E-rank Noble Phantasm that had a barrier-breaking property. All of the normal ones failed to penetrate the first shield, and even the last one only managed to severely crack the barrier at the expense of collateral damage that destroyed most of the surrounding homunculi and damaged the nearby structures.

_This isn't good... Those shields have a reflective-distributive property. I do have things strong enough to break through them, but the splash will destroy most of the surrounding area... _Archer said, troubled.

"_**Seven.**_"

Later, looking back, Harry would realize that there were other things he could have done, such as alerting the other two that his position had been compromised and that he needed more time, but at that moment, his mind could only think of that one single idea, which he put into action right away.

"_**You've been- CAWK!**_" The returning crow let out a cry of surprise as Harry suddenly barreled past it and off the edge of the platform.

For a moment, he felt everything slow down as he fell towards the roof below. Archer was saying something, but for some reason he couldn't make out what it was. Then prana surged through his body, Reinforcing it even further. A quick flick of his hands sent the bow away, moments before his feet made contact with the roof tiles. They gave way slightly, cracking beneath his weight, but at least he didn't go all the way through.

"_**Five.**_"

The tiles cracked further as he put even more weight down, kicking off into a straight sprint. Even as his surroundings began to blur with the speed he was putting out, Harry's hands moved to bring out the spear. At the same time, his mind was preparing another array for his Eye, which waited to be unleashed behind its closed eyelid.

"_**Three.**_"

Already the edge of the roof closest to the courtyard was fast approaching, and Harry added another burst of speed. _The speed of those shield-types isn't that fast. If I want to get by them... it'll have to take some agility!_

Archer's words finally broke in with that conscious thought. _Of all the stupid ideas you- _

Prana surged through Harry's Mystic Eye, and it glanced at several points around the courtyard, delivering its effect even as he prepared to jump.

"_**Two.**_"

As Harry's feet left the ground, his hand shot out to grab a hold of the pole that he had transmuted from the roof's materials. His shoulder screamed with the strain of trying to maintain the hold, and the pole gave way almost immediately, but its purpose was already served; the sudden redirection of his momentum sent him flying towards the right, where another larger pillar awaited. Its large circumference made for a nearly flat surface for him.

Twisting around, Harry hit it feet first, bending his knees to absorb most of the impact through his body. The next moment, he launched himself off once more, heading for the final pole. At the same time, he transferred the spear from his left hand to his right, and reached out with the empty one.

"_**One.**_"

Once more his shoulder screamed, although this time it was on the other side. Unlike the first pole, this one was made out of a stone lantern that was in the courtyard, and thus managed to hold up to the force he put on it. At the final moment, Harry released his grip, and shot towards the back of the sensor homunculus with his spear extended out before him.

"_**Now!**_"

The last thing Harry saw before everything went dark was the sensor-type disintegrating as the tip of his spear pierced straight through it.

...

_WAKE UP!_

"GWAH!" Harry sat up with a yell, and quickly scrunched up as pain hit his body. "Owowowowww... What the bloody hell?"

His response came in the form of another yell from his passenger. _LOOK OUT!_

Despite the pain wracking his body, Harry quickly threw himself into a roll to avoid the blade that was swinging down on him. "_Trace, On!_**"**

The blade appeared just in time to catch the next one, and Harry stabbed the homunculus with another Traced weapon before finishing it off with a third. Quickly glancing about, he spotted the spear embedded in the wall above where he had been lying, and hurriedly ripped it out to defend against the remaining seven that had survived the reflected damage from the Noble Phantasm shot. A closer look revealed that none of the shield-types were around.

_They were all lined up in front of the sensor, and your reckless stunt happened to take them all out in one go. _Archer's tone made it clear what he thought of Harry's action.

_Hey, it worked, didn't it? _Harry responded as he fended off several attacks and took down the attackers, who were easy to deal with now that the coordinator behind them was gone.

_...of all the stupid... _Archer trailed off into inaudible grumbling, but he still continued to guide Harry's actions, and soon there were none left in the courtyard.

Setting down the spear, Harry checked himself over. Apart from several aches in his thighs and ankles, the only other damage he had received from his stunt was a reddened and tender palm.

"_**Boy, can you hear me?**_" Kiritsugu's voice came through the seal.

Harry placed a hand over it. "_**Yeah. I blacked out a little because of some unexpected setback. How did it go?**_"

"_**It went perfect.**_" Kakeru's voice joined the conversation. "_**The barrier on that Makiri is down, and the attacks are getting through.**_"

"_**Both of you, you can rest now. Head over to one of the shelters and let the defenders handle Makiri.**_" Kiritsugu informed them. However, the moment Kakeru's voice disappeared from the connection, he spoke again. "_**Potter, you know what you have to do?**_"

Harry closed his eyes. "_**Yeah.**_ _**I'm the only one who can do it, right?**_"

"_**Yes. Good luck.**_" With that, Kiritsugu's presence faded.

The seal detached from Harry's neck and fell to the floor, where it suddenly burned up without a trace left behind.

_So? What will you do now? _Archer asked quietly.

_I'm the only one here with an Alchemical Weapon, remember? And what are you asking stupid questions for? You don't like it when I do that._

_Hmph. Just checking._

Harry leapt up onto the roof, stumbling slightly on the landing. From there, he only had to see where the beast from earlier was, and slowly made his way in that direction. As he drew closer, Harry noticed something that made him frown. As Yakumo had told him, the barrier around Makiri's form was repelling everything the defenders were throwing at it, but something felt weird to him.

_So that's the barrier. But something's off about it..._

_Instead of wondering, why aren't you getting a closer look?_

_Right, sorry. _Harry's mouth quirked as he took another leap closer to the giant creature. _Wow... that looks... yuck._

The lower half of it was like the snake tails the normal homunculi had, except this one had spikes on the back that would occasionally launch out like tiny incendiary grenades to explode where they landed. The upper half resembled a spider's body instead, with eight appendages extending out from the body segment behind the head; the front four limbs moved in a snake-like manner, and had wicked-looking jaws at their ends, snapping at anything that came close, while the remaining ones fit the spider image more, powerful-looking with sharp ends that supported the upper body's raised state, occasionally attempting to spear a defender when they moved forward.

_It looks similar to that thing from the Alien movies... _Harry thought, gripping his spear tightly.

Even as he watched, one of the jaw tentacles grabbed a youkai up by the leg and brought him towards the head, where deadly-looking mandibles flared open beneath several bulbous red eyes. Harry instinctively shut his eyes and turned away, but he heard the scream before a crunch signaled its end.

Forcing his eyes open, Harry made himself study the beast. It was protected by a milky white film that somehow repelled all attacks made against it, yet allowed its own to go out from the inside. He observed a flung boulder impacting on it, which resulted in the place where the boulder struck suddenly turning opaque. Yet a few moments later, a spear launched like a missile caused the barrier to bend inwards like a rubber sheet, bouncing back to fling the spear away. Other attacks received different responses as well; a sudden redirection of momentum, a pulse that repelled away the incoming projectile, even elemental effects such as freezing or burning.

_That's... not a magical barrier. _Archer muttered incredulously. _What is it?_

Harry knew that normal magical barriers had the same response to any kind of attack, which was why important structures utilized a number of them layered over each other so as to account for variables. For one single barrier to respond in so many different ways, it defied all conventional magic.

It wasn't just the physical attacks. Several magic-wielding youkais were flinging things like energy blasts and beams, but to no avail as well.

"_**That should have worked!**_" "_**What's with this thing?**_" "_**Damn it, we're getting beaten like this!**_" "_**Nothing's getting through!**_"

"_**Get out of the way!**_" A familiar female voice ordered.

Harry spotted Tsubaki facing the beast, hands outstretched in front of her bearing a glowing red ball and nine golden fox tails extending from behind her to form a ring around her hands. The moment the youkais had moved out of the way, she released a powerful beam that struck the barrier with enough force to make Harry stumble back, nearly falling off the roof where he was.

_Did it work? _Blinking the dust out of his eyes, Harry turned to look. _Yes! There's a hole in the barrier! And it damaged that monster!_

Part of the beast's left side was melted, and its movements had become sluggish. A cheer arose from the defenders, and they began attacking once again. However, the beast started making an odd cry. It took a moment for Harry to realize it was laughing. He didn't realize it was Makiri's voice right away because it sounded distorted, extremely guttural.

"_**Useless, useless, USELESS!**_" With one sweep of its undamaged tentacles, it sent the defenders flying back. "_**Ahhh~ This power... this power is the greatest! HAHAHAHA!**_"

Harry recognized the lightning effect of alchemical transmutation as it played over the melted sections, restoring them to their original condition. At the same time, the central mouth began spitting out more of the white material, filling in the hole in the protective bubble. Harry noted that despite appearing to be like the silk from a spider, the released material joined together with the rest of the bubble as though it was a natural phenomenon.

_I just realized... but there's no prana smell! _Archer suddenly exclaimed.

_What? That's not possible! _ Harry took several sniffs. _How can that be?_

"_**Amazing... this power to create this **_**Migen Busshitsu**_**... I am on the road of becoming a God!**_" (2) Makiri declared as the last of the hole created by Tsubaki's attack was filled up.

_Migen... Busshitsu? _Harry was unfamiliar with the term.

_It translates to Unknown Matter. _Archer explained grimly. _Harry, try Structural Analysis._

_Oh, so that's what you mean by 'Matter'. Hold on... _Harry cast the cantrip, and almost vomited from the alien knowledge that poured into his brain. _WH-WH-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING? HOW CAN IT EVEN EXIST!?_

Harry's mind recognized the material as something that did not exist in the normal sense, yet at the same time it registered as existing in a physical form, although functioning under physical laws that changed constantly. The idea of it created a paradox he was only barely capable of withstanding, and when Harry brought his hand away from his mouth, he realized he had a severe nosebleed.

_Creation of matter that functions with respect to its creator's will... Is this a True Magic...? _He could hear Archer muttering faintly, the spirit also having suffered part of the feedback from the analysis.

"_**You may have prevented me from achieving the full potential by destroying my precious pets... but it is ultimately useless. I will eventually become complete!**_"

Makiri's monstrous form began to spit out more of the white matter, but instead of joining with the existing bubble, these reformed into various homunculi shapes. Unlike the originals, these homunculi were completely white in color and moved somewhat oddly, as though made of paper. But as Harry saw, they were far more sturdy, and almost impossible to slay. The tide of the battle was turning badly for the defenders.

Tsubaki fired another beam, but this time it simply splashed harmlessly off the bubble. Makiri laughed long and loud at that.

But Harry noticed something else. _The homunculi he made should be of the same material, but they were destroyed by the beam. Does that mean he can't focus on every bit of that white stuff he creates?_

_Perhaps... but how long are you going to stand around waiting like this!?_

Harry flinched, finally realizing he had done nothing but watch for the past minute. The corners of his lips twitched as he hefted his spear. _You're right... I can't believe I'm going to say this... but Gryffindors charge forward, don't they!_

He could almost feel the smirk on Archer's face as he leapt down into the fray. Spinning his spear to get momentum behind it, he brought it down on one of the faux homunculi. Unlike the previous attacks against it, Harry's cleaved it from head to waist.

Unexpectedly, a bolt of energy burst out from the gem and reduced the body to white motes of light. Harry was so surprised by the new occurrence that he nearly got himself impaled by a lance-wielding one, saved only by the intervention of the youkais around him.

"_**Don't fight if you're not focused on fighting!**_" "_**You're the only one who can beat them down!**_"

"_**S-sorry!**_" Harry apologized. _What the heck happened? _

_This is only a guess, but... _Archer ventured.

_But what? I don't have time!_ Harry growled, taking advantage of the openings created for him to eliminate more of the white creatures.

_They aren't actually homunculi constructed through Alchemy. But they are being destroyed by transmutational energy. The energy you absorbed from destroying all the actual homunculi._

_So through Alchemy, Makiri came up with something that is only affected by Alchemy, huh? _Harry kicked away another breature and looked up at the body of the monster that towered above the crowd. _But conventional Alchemy won't work because it's impossible for any normal person to comprehend the structure of these things!_

Deep down, Harry already knew that he had deadlines set on him. Despite Makiri's actions, he was still slowly advancing forward. At the same time, the destruction effect of these new creatures suggested that it required the energy he drained by destroying the homunculi, which meant that there might be a limit to how many he could destroy.

"In that case..." Harry looked up at Makiri. "I'll just have to beat down the boss himself!"

As though reflecting his sudden increase in determination the spear started to emit light, but unlike the previous time, the light was white, not red. Also, Harry didn't feel a drain on his prana, which meant that all this power was coming from the gem's stores. At the same time, the size of the blade was even larger than before, making it extremely visible to everyone.

"Woah... what the hell?" Harry breathed.

Makiri turned his eyes downwards. "_**Wh-what's this? Well, whatever you try, it's useless.**_"

"_**Is that so, Makiri...?**_" A powerful voice replied from behind Harry.

Glancing over his shoulder, Harry saw Yakumo herself standing atop the roof, facing Makiri with her hand fan covering the bottom half of her face. Around the battlefield, everyone paused to turn their attention to the meeting between the leaders of both sides.

The beast turned to look at her. "_**Ah, Yakumo... you've finally come out of your hole? Can you see this power I've gotten my hands on?**_"

"_**Yes, I see it. What an ugly power, as expected of someone like you.**_" Yakumo replied. "_**I prefer the power that you see before you more.**_"

Makiri's form reared back. "_**Ugly!? This is the power of a god!**_"

"_**Then, shall we test that out?**_" Yakumo shut her fan and pointed it straight at the beast before her. "_**Go, boy! Show him what that spear of yours can do.**_"

"Somehow I get the feeling she waited until the last moment so as to get the best image..." Harry muttered. "But... it also makes for a pretty good distraction!"

"_**What?!**_" Makiri moved, but was too late to stop him.

Harry had taken the opportunity to draw closer to Makiri's body with the monster's attention focused on Yakumo, and was now standing a few meters away from the Unknown Matter bubble. He already suspected just why Yakumo had told him that he was the only one capable of penetrating the barrier around Makiri the moment he heard about what it was constituted of, and those suspicions were confirmed a while ago.

With a yell, Harry stabbed the blazing tip into the barrier, going straight through without any resistance and penetrating into the lower body of the beast. Glowing cracks spread outwards from where the blade was, covering the entirety of the barrier and most of the beast's body.

"_**GUAAAAAAAAAGGGGGH!**_" Makiri thrashed around furiously, clearly experiencing agony.

The light from the spear increased in intensity, until Harry was forced to cover his eyes with an arm. All of a sudden, something exploded and made him release his hold on the spear, and he felt himself get thrown back into someone, falling to the ground in a pile of limbs. Blinking away the spots in his vision, Harry sat up to see what had happened.

The barrier had been completely eliminated, while Makiri's body itself lay in two pieces. The snake-like body was still thrashing around, but the movements were gradually weakening. Of the spider upper body, only the head and the foremost two tentacles remained, and the latter moved like a snake in its death throes. The mandibles that had looked so fearsome before now seemed like they could barely do anyone harm. Harry tensed up a little when he saw something within start to emerge.

It was a small body, covered in slime. "_**N-n-no, noooo... my... powerrr... what have... you done...?**_" It moaned, tumbling out onto the ground.

_Is that...? _Harry couldn't look away, despite how disgusting the sight was.

_Yeah, that's probably the real body. _Archer replied, also watching through Harry's eyes.

"_**This can't be... this can't be...**_" It muttered, clawing the ground.

"_**Too bad, Makiri-san. But you have lost.**_" Yakumo was suddenly next to Harry, having somehow appeared without forewarning. "_**And this time, you won't escape.**_" She raised her open fan above her head.

Makiri pushed himself up and glared at her with deep hatred. "_**I won't accept that... I WON'T ACCEPT-**_"

Harry caught sight of it moments before it landed; his spear was falling from the sky in a spin, and it struck Makiri point first, impaling the small body straight through the back. For a brief moment, he met those widened eyes, and saw an emotion in them that unnerved him greatly. Then a death rattle escaped the small figure, and it slumped down, lifeless.

"_**The end.**_" Yakumo pronounced with her fan clicking shut, satisfaction in her tone.

* * *

Harry stared at the unopened scroll in front of him, barely even thinking about it. It was several hours after his weapon killed Makiri, and he still had no idea how he should feel about it. At the moment, he was waiting for the gateways to be fixed so he could go back to where his foster parents were waiting; they had already been informed that he was safe, and would be waiting to welcome him back. Until then, Harry had time to himself. He sensed Archer patiently waiting at the back of his head, leaving him to think his emotions through by himself first.

Although he hadn't actually killed Makiri directly, that moment of eye contact had given him the feeling that Makiri realized it was Harry who was to blame for what happened to him in the end. Whenever he closed his eyes, Harry could see that expression appearing in his mind, and it bothered him greatly. He wasn't sure how he should be feeling; all the psyching up made it clear to him that he had been willing to kill, and with the fact that it was his weapon that was responsible, Harry kept thinking he should feel guilty, but his heart told him he shouldn't be. All in all, he was experiencing a confusion of emotions.

_Then again, it's hard to think of that guy as a human when he made all those monster-like homunculi and transformed himself into one as well. _Harry glanced at the watch on the table next to the scroll; he still hadn't put it on after changing it back from a spear. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the scroll.

It was quite obvious that he had been manipulated into taking the role of an assassin by Yakumo. While his Alchemical Weapon could only be wielded by him alone, Harry now realized that he could have just brought down the barrier and let someone else do the dirty deed. So he went and confronted the youkai elder. Her response was to hand him the scroll and tell him to read it.

Heaving yet another sigh, Harry finally reached for the scroll and opened it. _Let's see... 'A prediction of the future made by-'... The name's been blacked out, but the date was just a month ago. Prediction of the future? _This _is the reason she's giving me? _Frowning, Harry unrolled the scroll further. It took him a while to translate it from its Japanese form into English in his head, especially since he found himself trying to make the translation rhyme like its original Japanese form.

_**A beast seeks to bring darkness to the land  
Those who live off fear will stand to oppose it  
But those who live in the darkness  
Will be unable to stop its rise**_

_**A child of the light comes searching for his path  
Those who dwell in the light welcome his arrival  
But should his path lead into the dark  
There he shall find allies**_

_**A choice must be made in the mix of dark and light  
The path to survival lies in the balance  
But the beast will be slain  
And the child will be a hero**_

Harry stared at the scroll. _What the hell does this even mean? Okay, okay... wait, think carefully... _

It was obvious that the first stanza referred to Makiri and the second referred to Harry himself, but using this whole prophecy as a reason for having him face Makiri was just impossible to accept. In some ways, the last part had come true; Makiri was dead, and Harry was lauded by those who had witnessed his actions as a hero. The problem was that the prophecy itself was rather ambiguous as to explaining why he had to be the one to make the choice.

Harry grimaced and thrust the scroll away. _Whatever. I've decided._

_You have? _Archer asked, his tone mildly surprised.

_This whole thing is over and done with. Makiri is dead, and I didn't actually... you know, kill him. So, matter resolved! _Harry declared.

Archer didn't say anything in response to that statement. In fact, Harry got the feeling that Archer had no idea what to say.

_What makes a hero anyway? _

The thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and Harry began laughing softly. It was a humorless laugh.

Archer started to get worried. _Harry, stop that. _He could tell that Harry's emotional state wasn't normal, having been unbalanced by all the recent events.

The door suddenly flew open with a bang, and Harry twisted around reflexively, which caused him to nearly topple over. The next moment, he did topple over as Kiriyo tackled him in a hug. It took him several moments to realize she was cuddling and petting him on the head, praising him for being so heroic.

"_**Could you please get off?**_" Harry finally managed to ask, his voice sounding petulant in his ears.

"_**Ah, sorry.**_" Kiriyo squeezed him once more before letting him go, settling herself into the _seiza_ position facing him. "_**Say, what will you do after this?**_"

Harry thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "_**I'm returning to England after my vacation ends.**_"

Kiriyo covered her mouth with one hand in a gesture of surprise. "_**Eh, already?**_"

"_**I'm a foreigner, remember?**_ _**Anyway, what did you come here for?**_"

The fox youkai's ears and tail flicked around as she averted her eyes. "_**I just wanted to see you.**_"

Harry blinked. "_**That's all?**_"

Kiriyo nodded, giving him a demure look. After a period of silence where they kept stealing glances at each other, she finally spoke again, to ask a tentative question. "_**Do you... plan on coming back to Japan in future?**_"

"_**Y-yeah. Japan's pretty interesting, and I haven't seen every part of it yet, so...**_"

"_**Then you come again, I'll guide you around, okay?**_" Kiriyo smiled, then muttered to herself. "_**Particularly the night spots... ehehe...**_"

"_**What did you say?**_" Harry asked suspiciously.

"_**No-nothing at all! Ah, ahaha...**_"

She was about to say something else when Kaori interrupted from the doorway.

"_**Oi, brat. We can leave already. Let's go.**_" The miko caught sight of the glare Kiriyo was giving her. "_**What are you staring at, Cow Udders?**_"

"_**Nothing, Washboard.**_"

The tension in the room thickened as both girls tried to set each other on fire using nothing but their eyes. Harry wisely decided to stay out of it, instead picking up his watch and putting it back on his wrist. As for the scroll, he left it where it lay on the table.

During the walk to the gateway, Harry found out that Kiritsugu had already left for somewhere unknown taking Cliffe with him, since he had completed the job he had been hired for. Kakeru and Kaori had no serious wounds, and thus were joining him for the journey back. While the Re'ems they were rearing had been taken, reports from dispatched Yakumo clan members indicated that some of them had been recovered from the base Harry and the rest had been held captive at, so it wasn't a total loss.

As a matter of fact, all of them received rewards for their part in the battle. Harry didn't ask what the other two received, but Kaori was carrying a large bag on her back. As for himself, he received copies of the scrolls from their library which gave advanced instruction in sealing techniques; nothing truly special, but Harry was sure it would greatly benefit his research.

The three of them finally arrived at the Yakumo gateway, which was much smaller compared to the ones Harry had seen in Nara and Mahoutokoro. The animal-like youkai manning the booth there handed them the required tokens with a deep bow, and waved them onwards.

Harry passed through the gateway, and was suddenly met by a tight hug from his foster mother. The next moment, she released him and dealt him a painful slap.

"Harry Potter! Do you know just how _worried_ we were about you!?" Aunt Diana scolded. "We had no idea what happened until that bird dropped a letter on my head!"

Rubbing his cheek, Harry nodded. "Sorry." He looked over her shoulder.

Uncle John smiled tiredly. "Good to see you safe, son." He looked at Kakeru, who came through just behind Harry. "You too."

Kakeru bowed deeply. "_**I am deeply sorry to have placed your son in danger.**_" He apologized.

Harry's foster father took a moment to translate what had been said. "It's okay. He came back safe, and you did help him."

"_**He was more helpful to me than I was to him.**_"

They eventually got past that only because the group was blocking the gateway. After disposing of the tokens, they returned to Kakeru's household, which was still busted up from earlier, but enough to host Harry's family for a few cups of tea. It was then that they began explaining the events that had occurred after their capture. Harry hid his role at the end of the whole debacle, crediting Makiri's death to the youkai defenders.

"I can't believe you had to fight of all things!" Aunt Diana said fiercely.

Harry opened his mouth to say something back, but couldn't think of anything, and so closed it.

"Let's all calm down, shall we?" Uncle John laid a hand on his wife's arm. "Honestly, when we adopted Harry, we never really expected to have magic and all that's related come with him."

"Sorry." Harry couldn't help but apologize.

"Don't apologize, Harry. We aren't blaming you." Uncle John turned back to Kakeru. "It's just that it's a bit of a shock."

Kakeru blinked. "_**But this sort of thing isn't that common. Magic is magic, it's the will of those who use it that decide its effects.**_"

The other two adults stared at Kakeru, before Uncle John sighed and shook his head.

"Magic really doesn't make much of a difference, does it? Crime exists on both sides." He gave Harry a look. "At least you weren't seriously hurt apart from that burn on your arm."

Harry shifted his arm, barely aware of the bandage on it. "It should be fully healed by tomorrow, then I can take this off."

"_**Anyway, the whole thing is over.**_" Kakeru's shoulders slumped slightly. "_**The Yakumo clan will take care of the rest, so your vacation may continue as normal.**_"

"I think we would prefer that." Aunt Diana agreed. "No more magic stuff for the rest of our time here."

_After all that's happened, I think I agree too. _Harry thought, nodding to show his agreement.

Kakeru suddenly straightened up, and turned to look out through the broken screen door. Reinforcing his ears, Harry heard the sound of many footsteps approaching, and saw two people step into the clearing with a number of large golden oxen behind them; it appeared that the captured Re'ems were being returned. Harry noticed that both of them were youkais, but could pass for humans with their looks.

One of the pair was a heavily built man who towered over his partner. "_**Ooooi~ We've brought your property back!**_"

Kakeru got to his feet. "_**Pardon me, but I have to take care of that.**_"

"_**Don't... let us stop you then. We'll be heading back now. Goodbye.**_" Uncle John spoke, purposely using Japanese.

Harry noticed that his foster father used the Japanese goodbye that implied that they would not meet each other again, and was a bit troubled.

_It's not surprising. _Archer pointed out. _Any parent would associate this place with danger after what you went through._

Harry's return to the Shikado family set off a mini-celebration, and he told them the cover story he had come up with about how he had gotten lost on the way back, before taking shelter at the house of Kaori's uncle. Hearing about the storm from his foster parents had been a stroke of luck for Harry, and he used it to explain that he hadn't been able to call due to the water destroying the memo on which the Shikado family's phone numbers were written. They accepted the story, although Yoshino gave him a look of suspicion.

Later, as Harry was relaxing in the bedroom waiting for the bath to become free so he could use it, he heard a tapping at the window. Seeing Kiriyo there gave him a shock, but he quickly got control of himself and opened it.

"What- _**What are you doing here?**_" He asked.

"_**Just forgot a little something...**_" Kiriyo smiled, and it was a mischievous smile.

"_**Forgot- Mmph!**_" Harry suddenly realized that something was pressing against his lips.

_Someone's popular... _He heard Archer murmur humorously.

The next moment, Kiriyo had pulled away. "_**Consider that thanks for what you did for me.**_" She winked, and leapt away into the darkness.

Staring out into the night, Harry thought to himself that maybe stepping into the dark side of magical Japan wasn't so bad after all.

(1) Inspired by Archer's Crane Wing Three Realm move. Falling under Buddhist cosmology, there are three realms of existence, Form, No-Form, and Desire. My interpretation in using this in my fanfic is that the being exists on three levels or phases, and cannot be completely gone unless it has been destroyed on all three levels. For an example, look at Megrez from Devil Survivor 2.

(2) Naturally, I can't claim any credit for this idea. It's the ability of Kakine Teitoku from A Certain Magical Index, where he creates and is able to control an all-new form of matter that doesn't obey the conventional laws of physics. Part of me wonders whether it can be considered a True Magic in Nasuverse, since the main factor that determines the difference between that and normal Magecraft is that things produced by magic cannot be reproduced through conventional means. Then again, there aren't really that many fics that cross Nasuverse and Indexverse.

Firstly, to my readers, sorry for the delay. After my exams ended at the start of May, I went for a 2-week holiday in Japan without my laptop, so I couldn't start writing until I came back. But then when I came back, it was with a viral infection, so I started a few days late. And there's the effect of not writing for a long time... But anyway, this chapter's out, and that's it.

Secondly, because I kind of lost my flow due to the break, I really let my subconscious determine the path this chapter was taking, and I'm not really proud of this one. However, I had a feeling that if I kept trying to rewrite it when I have no idea how to make it better, I would never get anywhere with this fanfic. So I took the plunge and tried to end it as best as I could. Even if it means trolling some of you with the 'killing'. As for the prophecy thing... well, leave your thoughts about that, since it's something that popped into my mind at random.

Anyway, the Japan arc is almost over, then it'll be back to Britain and then Hogwarts. I'll say this though, things aren't going to follow canon like Years 1 and 2.

Leave your reviews to tell me what you think.


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